Soul of Slytherin, Heir of Gryffindor
by verbal diarrhea
Summary: PG13, just to be safe. Harry Potter and Mr. Ollivander aren't really what they seem. This is not a Dark Harry fic, and he won't end up in Slytherin House, promise. The title is pretty self explanatory.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling. I only own my wacky ideas, so unless you want my insanity I don't think you should sue.

…………………..

Mr. Ollivander sighed. Another student off to their first year at Hogwarts. Mr. Ollivander started to clean up the damage caused by the young Mugleborn witch, and thought that it was wonderful that Muggleborns were allowed to practice their talents, and that their parents, or most of them at any rate, allow them. Mr. Ollivander was broken out of his train of thought by the top part of the door hitting a bell attached there. Mr. Ollivander smiled. He was waiting for this person.

"Good afternoon," he said softly, and watched as Mr. Potter and Rubeus Hagrid jumped.

"Ah, yes, yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter," Mr. Ollivander stated.

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. He was certain now of what this child was.

"Your father on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it-it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course," Mr. Ollivander said, knowing that the 'child' had already known that. Now, all he had to do was clinch it.

"And that's where." Mr. Ollivander traced his fingers along Harry's scar, and felt a power faintly tickling his finger. He knew that power, had felt it before as a boy. 'Harry' looked up at him, his eyes pleading to not tell his secret. Mr. Ollivander smirked, very well then, he'd respect the 'boy's' wishes; he did however want to make sure that..well, he just wanted to make sure.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," Mr. Ollivander said apologetically. He knew that it would make the 'boy's' mission harder, and all he could do was apologize, unless a wand could help.

"Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands, well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do." Mr. Ollivander turned and spotted Hagrid., subconsciously aware of a sigh of relief coming from behind him.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again, oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it."

"It was sir, yes," Hagrid replied.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled." Mr. Ollivander suddenly became stern. He knew what dangers a wizard/witch could be in when they try to perform magic with a broken wand.

"Er-yes, they did, yes," Hagrid said. "I've still got the pieces though," Hagrid remarked brightly, as if that could make a difference if the next time he tried to do magic with a broken wand, it would lessen the chance of him looking worse than splinched.

"But you don't USE them," asked Mr. Ollivander archly. It didn't really matter if he'd asked that question or not, he still knew the answer.

"Oh, no, sir." The fact that Hagrid said this whilst gripping his umbrella tightly didn't go unnoticed by Mr. Ollivander, and neither did it seem to do so for Harry.

"Hmmm." Mr. Ollivander was having an internal debate over whether to tell Hagrid off, or let the half giant learn the hard way. He decided the hard way. If Hagrid still raised dangerous beasts even though he was expelled for that, well...it would be fight against futility.

"Well now-'Mr. Potter'. Let me see." He pulled a tape measure out of his pocket.

"Which is your wand arm?"

"Er-well, I'm right handed," the 'boy' replied. Mr. Ollivander had the sudden urge to roll his eyes. WHY was the 'boy' still playing naïve around him? Was it because Hagrid was there? Honestly, the man wouldn't catch a slight slip! The measurements then commenced. 'Mr. Potter' the proceeded to try somewhere around twenty seven different wands. But that was to be expected, why would HE have an ordinary ward? After all, last time he had a staff!

"Tricky customer, eh." Mr. Ollivander was practically radiating happiness. "Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere-I wonder now-yes, why not-unusual combination-holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." As 'Harry' gripped the wand, to Mr. Ollivander's keen eyes, Harry started to glow. Because Mr. Ollivander was accustomed to working around wands, mixed with an unnatural gift, he knew exactly when a person had found their, or rather, the wand has chosen the wizard. You see, when a wand and wizard finds each other for the first time, the wand taps into the wizard's magical aura, which is lying dormant unless the wizard is undergoing some deep emotions or in a life threatening situation, when it temporarily becomes active. It was 'Harry's' aura that confirmed for Mr. Ollivander that his hypothesis was 100 correct. Harry Potter was Salazar Slytherin's reincarnation.

Salazar brought the wand up over his head, and brought it swishing down in a shower of gold and read sparks that veiled the inner green and tarnished silver sparks. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well, how curious, how very curious." Mr. Ollivander smiled knowingly, and Salazar looked tense. He put the wand back into its box and wrapped it up in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious. Curious."

Gulping, Salazar asked, "Sorry, but what's curious."

Mr. Ollivander stared at him. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather-just one other. It is curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother-why its brother gave you that scar. Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew, curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. Ithink we must be expecting great things from you, Mr. Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things-terrible yes, but great." Mr. Ollivander lapsed into a thoughtful silence, while Salazar was looking anxious, and Hagrid was fidgeting in his chair, only barely refraining from biting his nails.

………At the Dursley's again…….

Now that Harry, or rather Salazar was away from the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, and from the Keeper of Keys, he was finally able to think and reflect. (A/N: If anyone is confused, I'll be referring to Harry as Salazar and Salazar as Slytherin)

…….Flashback……

"Ah, I see you have initiated your son into the ancient art of wand making, Caduceus Ollivander," Slytherin observed.

"Yes, and it seems he has a natural talent in it too," Caduceus stated proudly.

"Then, may I be one of the first people who will have the pleasure of receiving your son's, Helix Ollivander's, hand made wands (A/N: Hand made instead of by magic)," Slytherin asked.

"But of course!" Helix exclaimed.

……End Flashback……

It struck Salazar as funny as to how the present day Ollivander was the Helix Ollivander who had achieved immortality at the cost of his life. Really, dying so you won't die. That's just complicated! And Helix had been unwilling, too! As many don't know, Ollivander is a vampire, one of the oldest in fact, mainly because he didn't actually go out looking for trouble. It was ironic. Little Tommy could have been immortal without all the killing. Although, Salazar doubted that Tommy would've actually decided to become a vampire with the whole purity of blood, well, what makes even more ironic is that Helix doesn't want it, but Tommy does. Laughable really. But, WHY couldn't Tommy understand that the purity of blood was a notion for the Founders' era, not now! If Tommy succeeds, the pureblood families would become too inbred. Right now, the influence of Muggleborns would help. Also, if Tommy encourages the European purebloods to marry and create heirs with other pureblood countries from around the world, well, then the problem would just be a world wide problem, the pureblood families would become inbred, and they would die from hereditary diseases. And if the Muggleborns are all wiped out, well, magic would be gone forever.

Salazar groaned. It was stuff like this when he wished he had kept his big mouth shut 1000 years ago.

Fin

A/N: Yes, I remodeled this chapter. It was just too hard to read. That and the added fact that stuff like this sometimes intimidates people (it did that to me), so I had to redo this.


	2. Year One: The Sorting

A/N: Alright, well, since some people want me to continue this piece of writing, I will. It was supposed to be a one shot, but oh, well. So, the first part shall be regarded as a prolog. The rest will be the important events of the five books arranged in order, and how I believe Salazar would respond. Then, perhaps I will get into the future a bit. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It's all JK Rowling's.

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Year One: Hogwarts, a thousand+ years later

_The Sorting_

**But first, an insight into the true personalities of the Founders: Narrator-Salazar Slytherin. Audience: a random person in a bar in Knockturn (A/N: I have no idea why he's talking to this guy either)**

Hogwarts had changed from his, Salazar's, time. The changes made were mostly subtle, the stones were a bit grimier, the rooms dustier, a few more secret passages, but those were the physical changes. What weren't physical changes were the facts that there were more ghosts, different Heads of Houses, obviously, a headmaster, and radically different students.

The Founders themselves were also different, but different in personality. You see, instead of having a personality, they were devoid of personality and had only one goal in life or only one set of morals. Instead of having justifications for their actions, the reasons for their actions were based solely upon the actions themselves.

Let's first start with Godric, shall we? While the stereotypes were true about him being amiable, funny and a prankster, he wasn't courageous to the point of stupidity. He was more courageous than most, yes, but wasn't so careless with his life as to rush recklessly into mortal peril. In a duel, he would take to using assassins' tricks, but had enough honor not to attack someone with their back turned, or unarmed, and would rarely kill someone who was already beaten or had surrendered. It was the last trait that had ultimately gotten him killed.

Helga wasn't the loyal scatter brained dumb blonde that the stereotypical wizards of today made her out to be. She had a slight attitude and a sharp tongue, but like Godric, was amiable and the only time she made use of the attitude and cutting retorts was when she was really pissed. After all, why do you think that the house colors were yellow and black? Those where the color of a bee (or a wasp), and a hive of annoyed bees (or wasps) out for your blood was bound to be painful (if allergic, runs the risk of dying). And since bee stings are poisonous, it is fitting that she knows all about poisons. Here's an interesting story you might like to hear. It was about a wizard who had commented on her weight. Yep, I bet you know where THAT'S going. You see, he had told her, in some not-so- pleasant-terms, that she should lose some weight, and you know what happens when a person comments on a woman's weight. Helga vowed then and there that there was revenge in store for the as I quote her "bastard", and the next night poisoned him with a less-then-legal but almost illegal potion. The fact that the potion had been only almost illegal had let her off with only a fine of five hundred galleons.

Now, onto Rowena. Umm, well the stereotypes were mainly correct. She always had her nose in book, and was always studying something, of course the fact that she studied everything proved to be very embarrassing for her when she was caught reading the Kama Sutra. Uhh, I trust that you know what that is for I wish not to explain it. Well, when Godric found her, she screamed bloody murder, for he caught her...practicing, shall we call it, on a very attractive wizard of twenty one summers. At the end of the whole fiasco, I learned that Godric could turn several colors; among them are rose, red, burgundy, maroon, dark red, pink, a slight robin's egg blue, violet and multiple shades of grey. He beat Rowena and her lover by the blue color. Well in all actuality, he only beat the boy. Rowena turned a beautiful grayish blue. I'm telling you, it was a…how you say...Kodak moment.

Well, now onto me. I'm…uhh…well I promised you a profile on the Founders and I will give it to you! But, I don't like to talk about myself. I'm nothing to be proud of really. Just your normal everyday wizarding lord. Yep, that's me. Well, as normal as a wizard gets anyway. At any rate, I'm pretty amiable, unless you somehow piss me off, then you will most definitely die, unless you're a friend or ally. I'm a prankster, far better than the Marauders and Weasley twins combined! It's my one true joy and hobby. I suppose that's where people get the "cunning" part of Slytherin House from. I'm courageous, kind of. It's more like I'm determined to be courageous. But if there's a Manticore after me…HELP"Knowledge is power" yep, one of my favorite quotes. I guess that's where people get the "ambition" in Slytherin House from. I have all the bad traits of the other three Founders in me, and I dabble in the Dark Arts, okay, so I'm completely engrossed in my research of the Dark Arts, it's not like it means I'm evil! No really, I'm not! I'm just a radical! All right, so I kind of was the Founder of Nazism and the purity of blood shenanigans; but it's not like I ever acted on them. Great, so now I'm having a one-sided conversation with a drunkard in Knockturn. I do believe that my IQ just dropped ten points

…………………..

"Potter, Harry" McGonagall announced to the hall. Whispers broke out in the Great Hall, as people pointed and gasped at Harry/Salazar. Salazar could've ignored them, but had to act as if they were affecting him. He walked up to the stool and place Godric's hat on.

"Well, well, well. A Founder! Haven't talked to one of you in years" the Hat sounded delighted.

"You talk as though I am some type of rare species of sentient animal" Salazar replied amused.

"You still have the same sense of humor" the Hat replied. "But let's get down to the business at hand, shall we"

"By all means"

"Well, since you ARE Salazar Slytherin, it is only fair that you should…" Godric cut the Hat off.

"No, I want to be placed into Gryffindor. I want to be Sorted into a place that Harry Potter, the hope of the Wizarding world and the Boy-Who- Lived would be placed" Salazar demanded. It was crucial for people to underestimate him. If he was underestimated, he would be trusted much more, and Tommy would be more inclined to play around with him when they encountered each other. If he played around with Salazar, Salazar would have the chance to "reform" him somehow. Salazar also knew that when the War will once again resume, he needed to be the beacon of hope, the light if Dawn in the midst of a moonless night (A/N: God that sounded SO cliché), and he wouldn't be able to do that properly if he was in the so called "evil" house.

"Very well, better be GRYFFINDOR"


	3. Preparations for the Midnight Duel

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I hope that you shall continue to enjoy this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Thoughts: '…..'

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Chapter Two, Year One: Preparations for The Midnight Duel

Salazar was over joyous. He was on the House Quidditch team! Of course, it was true about what Salazar had said, he really didn't know what quidditch was; it wasn't invented yet in the Founders' time.

"So then, McGonagall asked me if that was my first time on a broomstick, and when I nodded, her eyes just sort of...bugged out," Salazar was telling Ron of what hadhappened during the visit to McGonagall's office.

"And afterwards, she told me that I could be on the House team if I kept up my grades," Salazar said, happily. Quidditch was never a sport that he wasable to try out. And he never would have, if Ron hadn't explained the sport to him. Even then, he was still reluctant to try it out. Ron's explanations weren't that organized, and because of that they were confusing. What really got him intrigued was when he had overheard a pair of Gryffindor seventh years talking about the sport in the Common Room.

"Seeker," Ron said. "But first years never..." Ron trailed off in favor of gaping at Harry. "You must be the youngest house player in about..."

"A century," Salazar supplied for Ron. He promptly stuffed a piece of pie into his mouth. Adrenaline rushes and possibilities of getting expelled tended to make him hungry. Seeing Ron's inquiring face as to how he knew that little tidbit of knowledge, Salazar replied, "Wood told me." Ron just sat and gaped some more. Whether it was as to how much Salazar was eating or about making the Quidditch team, he didn't know. Salazar decided to try to find a way to make Ron's mouth close; it wasn't very appetizing seeing half chewed food fall out of someone's mouth.

"I start training next week," Salazar said. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret." 'And so do I,' Salazar thought. 'The last thing I need right now is for someone to try to kill me over a little thing like Quidditch.' Fred and George Weasley then entered the hall, spotted Harry, and proceeded to hurry toward Salazar and Ron.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us," he supplied quickly, seeing Salazar's uneasy glance"We're on the team too-Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant/ you must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us." Salazar suddenly got the mental image of Wood in drag, skipping along a pink lane, singing "Here Comes the Muffin Man" whilst picking dandelions, and snorted in amusement.

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passage out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you." Salazar tucked that information away until further reference. Like he had said before in his charming little soliloquy to the old drunkard in Knockturn, Hogwarts had changed since his time. It was good to know where all the secret passages are. Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting that train back to the Muggles?" Salazar inwardly rolled his eyes at the insult. Normally, he would've said nothing in response, for retorting to such a pathetic insult is far beneath him, but being that he is Harry Potter, he just can't let a remark like that get past his without having to retort to it.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Salazar commented coolly. Now, it was true that Crabbe and Goyle weren't little, but what Salazar lacked in physical strength in this body, he more than made up with the fact that he was very fast, and that he remembered everything from his past life as Salazar Slytherin. He knew more dark curses than probably even Tommy knew. Of course, the fact that they were surrounded by Gryffindors, surrounded by wards, and lastly surrounded by teachers rendered the two parties unable to do anything to each other other than crack their knuckles, and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only-no contact. What's the matter? Never hear of a wizard's duel before I suppose," Salazar felt like slapping the arrogant bastard upside the head. Did Malfoy really consider him so incompetent that he didn't know how to duel? Oh, and he, Salazar, decided that he'd have to reassess the statement he made in his own mind about how they couldn't do anything other than scowl and crack their knuckles. They also, it seemed, could issue challenges to duel. And what was with this no contact rule? What's a wizard's duel with out a sword? Oh well, he'd test out his sword skills later.

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?" Malfoy looked at Crabbe, then Goyle, sizing them up. That didn't make much sense, considering he had just stated that there shall be no contact. If one breaks the code of conduct laid down before a duel, the rules are automatically considered null and the duel turns into a one on one massacre. Bloody fool.

"Crabbe," Draco finally decided. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked." When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Salazar had turned to look at each other.

"What's a wizard's duel?" asked Salazar. Salazar did in fact no what a wizard's duel was, it's just that he needed to play the Golden Boy, and he would have tno idea what a wizard's duel was. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron stated casually, as if wizard's died every day from one of these, which was true, at least in Salazar's time. After seeing the look of disbelief on Salazar's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy will be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse anyway." 'Want to bet on the fact that not one of the participants knows enough magic to hurt each other?' Salazar thought a bit smugly. I know this spell that causes the body to fold inside out so that the organs are all on the outside.really pretty little spell for gathering potions ingredients. But Salazar decided to play along, like usual, so he said, "What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him in a nose," Ron suggested. 'Now, that suggestion makes ME want to punch YOU in the nose!' Salazar thought, even thought he knew that Ron as just trying to help.

"Excuse me." Ron and Salazar both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Ron asked, looking mournfully down at his now cold hot coco. Hermione ignored him, and instead turned to face Salazar, who fervently wished that the Mudblood in front of him would either drop dead, or walk away and leave the two of them alone to their dessert.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying,"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered, which took the words right out of Salazar's...er...mind.

"-and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of all the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really selfish of you." Hermione concluded. 'It's really presumptuous and selfish of you too to think of nothing but yourself." Salazar thought.

"And it's really none of your business," said Salazar, getting rather annoyed.

"Good-bye," Ron said in a monotone voice.

A/N: Ok, I would've done the whole duel thing, if it weren't for the fact that it's 12:18 AM and I have an oral exam tomorrow. Sorry.


	4. The Midnight Duel

Salazar's thoughts are always going to be _'...'_ so, if you see only those, with no indication as to who is thinking, it's automatically his. All other thoughts have indication.  
  
I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry would definitely be in Slytherin.  
  
Chapter Three, Year One: The Midnight Duel (finally)  
  
_'All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day.'_ Of course, it would've been better if he had been allowed to kill the little piece of dragon dung, but then, he'd end up in Azkaban, and that just wouldn't be good. Salazar snorted when he remembered the conversation.  
  
Flashback  
  
"So, have any good tips on dueling?" Salazar asked Ron.  
  
"Well, if he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them." Salazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes he wished that he had been Sorted into Ravenclaw; it never ceased to amaze Salazar how totally ignorant Ron was at magic. He shuddered to think of how little Muggleborns knew. Salazar opened his mouth to say, "To block fatal curses, simply trace the Egyptian ankh in the air, and give a mental 'push'." But Salazar was able to stop himself in time. _'Of course, that was over a thousand years ago. I don't want to push my luck anymore today.'  
_  
Ron looked at him weirdly. Salazar mentally berated himself for letting his thoughts wander so much.  
  
"What were you going to say?" Ron prompted Salazar.  
  
"Well, I was just wondering, since the Malfoys were involved with You- Know-Who, wouldn't Malfoy know some Dark Arts stuff?" Salazar asked, while mentally starting to roll his eyes. He stopped about half way through, and decided that he had done enough mental rolling for one day. He then remembered that Hogwarts was warded and that the wards would realize if any Dark Arts was being practiced without express permission from the Headmaster, an alarm would sound, or the school would try to kill him, etc. His bout of forgetfulness made Salazar want to hit himself in the head, but he decided it would look very odd if he, out of nowhere, decided to hit himself.  
  
Ron furrowed his brow. That was one thing he had never thought of. Malfoy could very easily curse Harry with some powerful Dark Arts curse. But then, he would go Azkaban! But wait, Malfoy's dad was on the Hogwarts council. Shit. But then again, Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived; if Malfoy's father were to do that, that would be taken as an out right attack on the Wizarding World. Feeling justified, Ron said, "He couldn't do that. If were to do that, he'd get into some deep trouble."  
  
End of flashback  
  
And so, after waiting a few hours and doing more homework than the two thought humanly possible with out going insane, Ron finally muttered, "Half-past eleven, we'd better go." They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Salazar's gut instinct told him not to go downstairs. Of course, it wouldn't be seemly if the Gryffindor Golden Boy was to chicken out. In Salazar's mind it was far to early to be sneaking about, for a few insomniacs could be wandering around the halls, and prefects, of course. It just wouldn't do for Malfoy to have yet another thing to rub into his face...not that he cared, it was just annoying.  
  
Salazar was soon proven correct about his assumption when, when the two were so close to the portrait hole, a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this Harry."  
  
A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown. Suddenly, Salazar experienced a weird sense of déjà vu, and had a faint recollection of this very scene playing out in front of his dorm mates in Durmstrang...Salazar shook off the memory quickly, now wasn't the time.  
  
"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"  
  
"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy-he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this." _'But of course you didn't. you would like nothing better than to see Malfoy get knocked off his high horse,'_ Salazar thought.  
  
"Come on," Salazar said to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.  
  
Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing like an angry goose. _'Or a snake,'_ Salazar thought, absentmindedly.  
  
"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells." _'Do you really think I care about that stupid cup?! I care more about my pride! Besides, it is completely overrated. Winning the cup is supposed to symbolize that one House is better than the others! That is definitely not true. Each House has its own unique qualities. So, in essence, they're all great in their own right. And now I shall stop my internal ramblings. I'm giving myself a headache!'  
_  
"Go away!" ' Oh, nicely put Ron, couldn't have done it better myself.'  
  
"Alright, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-"  
  
But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower. _'How convenient.'  
  
_ "Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly. _'Well, duh! You're going to do exactly what Aunt Petunia always did in one of these situations. You're going to follow us, and perhaps, if you were in Slytherin, use that information against us sometime later. Nosy little Mu...ggleborn, aren't you?'  
  
_ "That's you're problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."  
  
They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.  
  
"I'm coming with you," she said. _'As if that wasn't apparent.'_ Now, he couldn't use any of the almost illegal curses that he wanted to._ 'Why in the seven hells did the girl have to know so much?!?! WHY?!?!'  
  
_ "You are not." Salazar protested.  
  
"Do you think that I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up." _'What'd I tell you? I knew she was going to use this information against us! I just knew it! And what makes her think that, even if Filch believes her, that we'll back her up?! Hey, if Ron and I are going to go down, then we'll take YOU down with us!'  
  
_ "You've got some nerve-" said Ron loudly. Salazar wanted to smack himself. Could Ron get any louder?! Great, he was stuck in the middle of a corridor, with two idiots. It was probably a scene out of one of Filch's dreams. _'And my nightmares.'  
_  
"Shut up both of you!" said Salazar sharply. "I heard something." _'Thank the gods! THAT shut the two up!'_ Suddenly there was a snuffling sound. Salazar tensed up, reaching into his robes, ready to cast a Sacer Poena. [One day when Salazar was in the library, he found a very old text that had somehow escaped being put into the Restricted Section after it had been taken out. So, of course, Salazar smuggled it out of the Library and into the Gryffindor dormitories. It had turned out to be a book on several dark curses that ought to have been made illegal, but were somehow able to escape be jotted down by the person whose job it was to do so in the Ministry. Fortunately, they were all spells that Salazar knew, so practicing them out wasn't necessary (A/N: As stated before, Dumbledore's wards on the castle would've detected the spells). What was unlucky was that, on the back flap, written among the various other names of students who had taken the book out over the years was Tom Riddle. Oh joy]  
  
"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.  
  
It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer. _'Well, I wasn't actually expecting someone when I told them to shut up.'_ Salazar thought with wry amusement.  
  
"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed."  
  
"Keep you're voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig Snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." _'Finally, the first sensible thing she's said! And now, we have a good alibi. We could say that we went to look for Neville, and Hermione tried to stop us, which she actually did, and got pulled along. Yes! It's almost perfect!'  
  
_ "How's your arm?" asked Salazar.  
  
"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."  
  
"Good-well look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later-" _'Real tactful Ron.'  
_  
"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already." _'Ah, so my old cousin Dracula has been looking for me. There is, after all, no other reasonable explanation for why he's all the way up here instead of down in the dungeons. Ghosts don't usually patrol the halls. That's a job for the prefects, unless, of course, Death Eaters attack the castle or something, and even then, House ghosts usually stay on the floor their House is...'  
  
_ Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione. This was all show, considering the fact that, since his father was obsessed about everything Muggle, he gave Ron a Muggle watch, so the watch had stopped at 5:43 AM.  
  
"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Boogies Quirrel told us about, and use it on you."  
  
Salazar felt like rolling his eyes, but, since he had taken an oath against doing it for the rest of the night, he contented himself with his cynical thoughts that went something along the line of _'Why waste your energy on such a measly curse? I know one that can turn Wizarding folk into squibs!'  
  
_ Hermione opened her mouth, probably to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Boogies, but Salazar hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.  
  
They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Salazar expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, (and very nearly cursed Hogwarts into oblivion whenever he saw their shadows) but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed to the trophy room.  
  
Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. They crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Salazar finally took out his wand. To all others, it might've been because he believed that Malfoy could be hiding in a dark corner, waiting for the right time to strike when Salazar's back was turned. But that, of course, would've been in direct violation to all dueling etiquette, and then everything usually illegal in a duel would be legal, like ganging up on people...but in all actuality, Salazar had his wand out in case a lone wanna be Death Eater was lurking around, trying to gain favor with the old relics sitting around from the last dark-light war. The minutes crept by.  
  
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered. That particular comment almost made Salazar burst out laughing. This is what the brave house of lions was reduced to? A whimpering child afraid of a weakling half- trained wizard? Well, okay, even Salazar had to confess to the fact that Malfoy would become one of the more powerful wizards, and that he, Salazar, had the expertise of a lifetime, literally, but still...Salazar smirked. He had something to goad Gryffindor with when he died again.  
  
Suddenly, a noise sounded from the next room. All of them jumped, and Neville whimpered. Salazar raised his wand. Perhaps Malfoy had alerted his father to the fact that he had gotten "Harry" and a few other Gryffindors out on their own at night. Then again maybe not. Lucius Malfoy probably wasn't that stupid, but then again, if brains were hereditary, then...Draco had to get his stupidity from somewhere. Salazar realized who it was when he heard someone speak.  
  
"Sniff around my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."  
  
It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Salazar paled with annoyance (he just naturally didn't seem to able to blush much). That little quivering coward! Malfoy was worse than Neville! No wonder his House had a bad rep!  
  
Salazar gestured for the other three to follow him as quickly as possible. He'd be damned if he spent his spare time hanging from the ceiling in the dungeon, prowling the Forbidden Forest, or polishing trophies in the trophy room.  
  
Everyone, probably thinking along the same lines, hurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped around the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. Salazar cursed under his breath. That had been a close call.  
  
"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."  
  
"This way!" Salazar urgently, and silently, mouthed to the others, and slowly, cautiously, and in some cases petrified(edly), they began to creep down a long gallery of suits of armor. Salazar could've blasted Godric. Gryffindor just HAD to have all of these suits of armor from absolutely ALL of his defeated opponents. As they rounded a corner, slightly faster now, for Filch was gaining slightly, Salazar saw one of his suits on display. He had the urge to take it with him. At the same time, Neville let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run-he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into HIS suit of armor[1]. Salazar fumed quietly.  
  
The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.  
  
Salazar panicked, kind of. "RUN!" he yelled, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see if Filch was following- they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another. Salazar was in the lead, heading toward the one place he knew no one would look for them. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom.  
  
"I think we've lost them," Salazar panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. He knew he shouldn't stop in the middle of a corridor, but he was just so damn tired...and it didn't seem as if Filch was chasing them anymore...did he mention that he was tired?  
  
"I-told-you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I-told-you."_ 'Yes, you did tell us. Around a hundred times actually, so save those breaths for when you need it. Like when you receive an E on your OWLs.'  
  
_ "We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower, said Ron, "quickly as possible." Salazar was about to say, "Best thing I've heard all night.", when Hermione suddenly stated, "Malfoy tricked you," to Salazar. Salazar actually rolled his eyes this time, in real life, realized what he did, and nervously scanned around to see if anyone noticed. None did.  
  
"You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you-Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off." Salazar resisted saying anything un-Gryffindorish. What was literally dying to get out was, "Slytherins aren't cowards, we just know when to quit. Unlike others, we actually HAVE self-preservation instincts. Besides, pride plays a big part of our decisions. He and his goons would've met us, Filch probably caught them, and in order to try to save his own hide, he probably told Filch of the duel." But it didn't, and Salazar was hopeful that it didn't show on his face either.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
Evidently, Salazar's karma was acting up (or down, depends on how you interpreted it), and things weren't going to be a breeze. They hadn't gone ten paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.  
  
It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight. Salazar's eyes narrowed, he didn't need this tonight. Peeves, being dead, was able to read Salazar's aura, and what he found was one not befitting a Gryffindor boy. It was akin to Tom Riddle's when he was still in school. And that clinched the idea to give into Potter's wishes. At least eventually; he still wanted to mess with their heads.  
  
"Shut up, Peeves-please-you'll get us thrown out."  
  
Peeves cackled.  
  
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."  
  
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves," Salazar threatened, realized his mistake, and added a please to the end.  
  
"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered in what some would call a wicked way, but others might call a slightly frightened way. "It's for your own good, you know."  
  
"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves. Ron looked slightly insane, or hyper, or incredibly tired, but his eyes were bloodshot and he wasn't blinking much. Of course, trying to attack a ghost was stupid, trying to attack Peeves when he could get you in trouble was simply retarded.  
  
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS COORIDOR!"  
  
Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, or in some cases their academic career, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door-and it was locked. Salazar felt like slapping Ron upside the head.  
  
"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for, this is the end!" _'I can NOT believe that this is Godric's House. Well, actually, I CAN believe, it's just too unbelievable for me to believe yet though. You know, Salazar, talking to oneself is considered the first step into madness...oh well.'  
  
_ They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeve's shouts.  
  
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Salazar's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered "Alohomora!"  
  
The lock clicked and the door swung open-they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it listening.  
  
"Which way did they go Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."  
  
"Say 'please'."  
  
"Don't mess with me Peeves, now where did they go?"  
  
"Shan't say nothing is you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.  
  
"All right-please."  
  
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away, and Filch cursing in rage. _'Ah, the power of double negatives.'  
_  
"He thinks this door is locked," Salazar whispered. "I think we'll be okay-get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Salazar's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"  
  
Salazar turned around-and saw quite clearly, what. _'NOOO! I don't want to go back to the afterlife! You can't make me! I happen to enjoy eating and breathing and other mortal habits!'  
_  
They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.  
  
They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling mad eyes; three noses; twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. _'Please don't eat me; please don't eat me; NO!'_ [2] Ron repeated the mantra in his head. _'It's Cerberus! No, wait, why would King Enma just lend out his guard dog like that? What the hell is this thing, then?!'  
  
_ Whatever it was, it was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Salazar knew that the only reason they weren't dead yet was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant._ 'Especially since I've had upfront, unpleasant and personal experiences with dogs in this state.'  
_  
Salazar groped for the doorknob-between Filch and death, he'd take Filch.  
  
They fell backward-Salazar slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere , but they hardly cared-all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.  
  
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces. _'I know what you're thinking, you perverted portrait, and I can tell you now that we weren't having some orgy somewhere. Now stop looking at us like that!'  
_  
"Never mind that-pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.  
  
It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again. _'Or blink again for that matter.'  
_  
"What do they think they're doing, keeping something like that lock up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dogs needs exercise, that one does." 'Well, I think the Headmaster's finally gone completely insane, but I don't believe that's a statement you wish to hear..."  
  
Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.  
  
"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped _'Well, I don't know, do we? Do you SEE us walking around aimlessly and into walls? No? Good!' _"Didn't you see what it was standing on?"  
  
"The floor?" Salazar suggested, in a sarcastic tone that none of them seemed to catch. "I wasn't -looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."  
  
"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."  
  
She stood up, glaring at them.  
  
"I hope your pleased with yourselves. We could've all been killed-or worse expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." _'No, I don't believe we'd mind at all. We'd welcome it with opened arms, you presumptuous misplaced Ravenclaw.'  
  
_ Ron stared after her, open mouth open.  
  
"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"  
  
But Hermione had given Salazar something else to think about besides his own sarcastic thoughts about how the entirety of the female population was nuts. The dog was guarding something...What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide-except perhaps Hogwarts.  
  
It looked as though Salazar had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.  
  
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----  
  
A/N; Yes, I know, this chapter took a very, very, very, very long time to be typed, and for me to post it. Sorry about that. And, yeah, there were a lot of, probably/mostly unnecessary 'Salazar' thoughts, but if I hadn't included them, the whole thing would've simply been a rewrite of the first book.  
  
[1]: Salazar didn't lose a sword duel to Godric, the reason that the armor was on display was because he was a Founder. And, yes, when he left the school, he would've brought it with him, but just play along, here. Please?  
  
[2]:Yeah, that little 'Ron' thought originally came from YYH during the Dark Tournament finals when Hiei summoned the Dragon against Bui. Ron just struck me as a Kuwabura type person. Also, the phrase just seemed appropriate for the situation.  
  
R&R! 


	5. A Little Insight as to the Troubles that...

Thoughts: ...'

Inner voices:

Salazar's thoughts are always going to be '...' so, if you see only those, with no indication as to who is thinking, it's automatically his. All other thoughts have indication. Except for this one chapter, all unmarked thoughts are Draco's.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, hence the fact that Harry isn't in Slytherin and isn't completely screwed up in the fifth book. I mean, what could make his personality do a 180? I mean sure Sirius died, and Cedric before that but still, did she **have** to make Harry sound like he's having his period, or something?

Oh, and before any one of you start thinking that there is going to be slash in here, there isn't, aren't you all lucky? I might add a bit of pre-slash in the later chapters (next 50 chapters), but it'll be friendship. After all, wouldn't want to harm the people with overly sensitive morals, now would we?

Sorry, I had the haven't-updated-in-a-long-while-'cause-I-was-either-working-on-my other-fic-or-cramming-useless-shit-into-my-mind-for-finals syndrome. The disease just seems to randomly manifest itself in me. And, if anyone knows how to write an at least half-way decent slash lemon, can you please help me? I know how it's done, I just can't write the foreplay. Thank you for listening/reading to this.

Chapter Four, Year One: A Little Insight as to the Troubles that Occur On the "Other Side" and We Find that the Grass Isn't Always Greener There.

"Crap, crap, CRAP!!!" Draco Malfoy muttered as he rounded the corner of the fifth floor. He quickly spied a tapestry that was a well-known (to the Slytherins ONLY) make-out spot, and hid behind it. He soon found out why that was.

It turned out that the tapestry hid an alcove behind it, with enough room for three to squeeze into, two to fit snugly in, and one to slightly stretch out one's legs, which was lucky, since Draco was a Malfoy, and Malfoys move as befitting of their station. This meant that he was used hurrying (or rather dispatching oneself with elegance), not sprinting, and he was therefore developing a rather nasty cramp in his calf.

'Blast Filch. Blast Potter. Blast my stupid cronies. If it hadn't been for them, I wouldn't BE neck deep in this crapfest[1] of a situation!' Draco sighed, what a way to spend an evening. Not only did Potty and his pauper friend now think him to be a coward, he, Draco Malfoy was forced to skulk about the corridors, trying to avoid prefects and Filch like some second-rate thief! Draco decided he didn't like the idea of being compared to a second-rate thief, and decided to take action...as soon as he had the opportunity to regain his wand from Filch, AND find out how to impose a harsh and painful vengeance upon those who wronged him without getting caught and expelled.

Draco sighed again, and shifted slightly. It was so difficult living up to the expectations of a father like his. He shifted again and was just settling down to rest his eyes for a bit, when he heard a cat hiss. Draco's eyes shot open.

'Nice one Einstein, **why** exactly did you hide in a place where you were so easily cornered?'

'Who are you, and who the hell is Einstein?'

'I'm the personification of your inner psyche. And I have no idea who Einstein is.'

'Oh, is that all?'

'Yes, and I believe that you should think of something quickly. Filch is heading this way like a man on a mission.'

'Fine, but I want you to tell me who Einstein is, as soon as I get out of this unpleasant situation.'

'Alright.'

No sooner had Draco ended the conversation with himself, when Filch had drawn back the tapestry with a smug look on his face.

"Gotcha now, Malfoy. Waiting for a midnight lover, are we?"

Draco winced, 'Eug, it sounds like he's going to rape me or something.'

'Don't be ridiculous, if he were to do that, he would be sent to Azkaban.'

'Shut up you.'

The voice mercifully fell silent. Draco hesitantly looked up to see Filch looming over him. It was only when Draco heard Filch say, "Well, got anything to say?" that he realized that he had been silent for a few minutes.

'Well, time to do **something** Draco, otherwise not only will you receive a detention, lose around two hundred points, and generally lose face, but you'll also never find out who Einstein is.'

"Only one thing."

"Oh, what is that?"

"I know some valuable information," at this point Draco waited. It wouldn't do for him to give anymore details if Filch wasn't interested. Besides, Filch was a bitter old man, and very cunning. If Draco gave anything away before Filch gave any inclining of being interested, he would simply give Draco a detention, and use the information[1].

"And what information would this be?" Filch mused aloud.

"I understand that you carry many a grudge against the Marauders," Draco said tentatively. It was known that Filch sometimes went into a maddening rage when the name of the old prankster group was mentioned.

"This is your information? If it is you are wasting my time. Follow me, and I'll contact your Head to arrange your detention."

"No, that wasn't the information."

"Then what is it?"

"I'll tell you once you've done something for me."

"And what would that be?" At this point both Draco and Filch had calculating looks on their faces. One had nothing to lose, the other had a few things to lose, such as his life. If he lost Slytherin's lead, his House would kill him.

"I want you to swear...on you cat that you will neither go to any authority figure, nor tell anyone about me wandering around at night," Draco hoped fervently that it worked. He considered himself too young to die.

"...Very well then, what is the information?" Draco could've fainted with relief, but didn't as that was not dignified, but also because if he didn't deliver the goods, Filch would go back on his promise.

"Potter, Weasley, and probably Granger are wandering around the trophy room," Draco replied, hoping that Filch wouldn't ask him anymore questions. Of course, it seemed that luck never helped him when he truly needed it.

"Really, is that so? I wonder why they would be going there of all places at this time of night?" Filch asked in sarcastic wonderment. "Perhaps because you challenged them to a duel?"

'Aw crap, aw shit, aw mother-fucking hell!' Draco groaned in annoyance and stress.

"You do know that dueling is against school rules, don't you?" Filch asked with a smug smirk. "Wondering how I knew that?" He asked, seeing the look of shock on the young Malfoy heir's features. "There seems to be no loyalty in the snake pit now-a-days."

If Draco hadn't been stressed, extremely pissed at Crabbe and Goyle, and afraid of the amount of points and years of detention he could receive if he wiped the smug look off of Filch's face and onto the stone corridor[2], he would do just that. But as it was, he was stressed, afraid of the consequences of his past actions and the consequences that punching Filch would entail, and he was extremely pissed at Crabbe and Goyle, so Draco didn't do anything. All he did was the he felt cold fury pass through him. He stored it. He would take it out on his cronies later.

"But I thank you for the information, and I won't tell anyone about you wandering around at night. However, I will have to notify your Head of House about your serious breach in school policy, mainly you challenging Potter to a duel," Filch seemed positively giddy at the fact that he would be able to extract vengeance upon the Marauders and their Slytherin counterparts through their children.

'If you still want to know who Einstein was, I'll be glad to tell you.' Draco swore softly under his breath.

'Just sod off you annoying personal manifestation of my inner **insanity**!'

A/N: Gah! If Draco seemed a little OOC by the end, that was because the backs of my eyes are hurting because it's 11:59 PM, and I figure that I owe you people another chapter. Think of this as my way of saying that I'm sorry for neglecting you for my other fic. I'm also rather sorry that it'll have to continue as long as it takes for me to finish Magnetic Sarcasm. Then I'll start working on this in earnest. After MS is done, I'll be splitting my energies between this and a YYH/HP crossover fic that I THINK is original (it might not be of course) and because of the (I think) originality, I want to get it out as quickly as possible. I'll continue to split my energies between the two until this fic is done, or the other is done (which seems to me like it'll be completed before this one). The AF/HP crossover will be shoved into my closet until my imagination stops coming up with new ideas for stories. It will still, however be posted so I can, hopefully receive some more reviews that contain constructive criticism (I only have one review that actually has that). If it's about Artemis being OOC, yeah, he is. I just can't seem to get him in character. More likely than just picking up where I left off is that I'll just delete it. I'm ranting. Well, that's how my schedule is going to be working in fan fiction terms, at least.

[1]: I can't really explain how the situation works. I tried before, but just ended up writing an essay on the subject.

[2]: A variation of the remark Genkai made to Suzuka in the Dark Tournament about wiping the makeup off his face. I won't go into it. The people who know what I'm talking about will know, and the people that don't won't care. I'm ranting again, aren't I?

R&R


	6. Halloween

I don't own Harry Potter, so sue me.

If you don't know what symbolizes the thoughts by now, I hate to say it, but you have an incredibly short memory span. But seriously, just look back at chapter two.

Chapter Five, Year One: Halloween (p. 170)

Perhaps it was because he was so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of his homework, but Salazar could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been back at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had (mainly because he had lived at Hogwarts for twenty years of his life 1000 years ago). And, in most everyone's opinion, the lessons were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke up to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin bread wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, which was like Christmas had come early to Salazar. If he had to spend another week in the Gryffindor common room, listening to his year-mates talk about this particular lesson like the Messiah was coming (again), he'd hex them all four ways to Reikai1. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Salazar's partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief because Neville had been trying to catch his eye, and Draco was shooting him dirty looks). Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Salazar's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important too-never forget Wizard Baruffio who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." Salazar wondered briefly about the coincidence that the man's name was Baruffio, and he ended up with a buffalo, but quickly cast the thought aside when he realized that he should be concentrating on charms practice. The idea to concentrate, even though it was a basic spell, took hold firmly when Seamus got so impatient, he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it-Salazar panicked to the extent that he put it out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

_"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Salazar heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here. Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Salazar as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

Someone knocked into Salazar as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Salazar caught a glimpse of her face-and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends." Salazar felt like yelling. It was obvious, at least to thousand year old reincarnations of Founders, that Ron had a bit of a crush on Hermione.

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Salazar and Ron overheard Pavarti Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girl's bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, which in turn made Salazar want to hit some sense into him even more. A moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of at least Ron's mind, temporarily.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Salazar was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Salazar thought he glimpsed a bit of a strange tattoo on the back of Quirrell's head. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table and gasped, "Troll-in the dungeons-thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Salazar asked Ron, stupidly thinking he'd receive an intelligent, well thought out answer.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in as a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Salazar suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

"I've just thought-Hermione."

"What about her?" Salazar wanted to strangle Ron.

"She doesn't know about the troll," Salazar replied, glaring at Ron who was standing there like an idiot.

Ron but his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy better not see us." Salazar refrained from commenting on the facts that Ron was: a. in Gryffindor House, and should therefore have jumped at the chance of rescuing Hermione. And b. was starting to sound like Hermione.

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Salazar behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy, but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Salazar whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me." Salazar bit his cheek to keep a sharp retort in check.Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with Ron.

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Salazar said, but Ron held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

_'Yes, something fishy is afoot, if I want to be cliché.'_ Salazar sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. _'Yep, rotten fish.'_

And then they heard it-a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed-at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows, something that Ron was only half able to do with his red hair, and watched as it emerged into a path of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with its flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly inside the room.

"The key's in the lock," Salazar muttered, seeing that Ron was obviously not going to be coming up with any bright ideas soon. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying that the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Salazar managed to grab the key, slam the door and lock it.

_"Yes!" 'Another thing to brag about in Godric face next I see him!'_

Flushed with their victory, or rather with Salazar flushed with victory and with Ron happy to have remained alive and in one piece, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop-a high, petrified scream-and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Salazar gasped.2

_"Hermione!"_ they said together.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Salazar pulled the door open and they ran inside.

Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. Salazar could've snorted. Two Gryffindors acting like cowards and a Slytherin playing the hero. Salazar decided there was something wrong with the picture. The troll was advancing on her, knocking off sinks as it went.

"Confuse it!" Salazar said desperately to Ron, and seizing a tap, he threw it hard against the wall. _'Why can't Ron have learned more hexes?! Even if they won't do any good. Why can't I use Dark Magic?! Oh, yeah. Because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Didn't-Die and he isn't allowed to use Dark Magic, that's why!!! And why am I throwing things against the **wall**?!'_

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. It's mean little eyes saw Salazar. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Salazar time to run around it. _'Finally, Gryffindor courage kicks in.'_

"Come on, run, _run_!" Salazar yelled at Hermione, tying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. _'Why couldn't Gryffindor courage kick in for this one as well?'_ Salazar thought in despair.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Salazar then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Salazar hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Salazar's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped-it had gone straight one of the troll's nostrils. Salazar murmured the burning hex _'ardens'_ under his breath.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed it's club, with Salazar clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club. _'Three cheers for Gryffindor stupidity.'_ Salazar thought cynically.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand-not knowing what he was going to do he head himself cry the first spell that came into his head: _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned over slowly-and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and the fell flat on it face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Salazar got to his feet . He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Is it-dead?"

"I don't think so," said Salazar, "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue. _'Urgh, brain matter, disgusting!'_ Salazar knew that the stuff couldn't be mucus, it would've harden because of the hex. However, for the sake of the Gryffindors' sensitive morals he said instead, "Urgh, troll boogers." He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrel bringing up the rear. Quirrel took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Salazar. Salazar had never seen her so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Salazar's mind3.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Salazar looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Salazar a swift, piercing look, no doubt attempting to use Legilimency to try to find out what happened. Salazar looked at the floor; eye contact was vital for Occlumency to work properly. That and he was embarrassed. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall-they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

"I went looking for the troll because I-I thought I could deal with it on my own-you know, because I've read all bout them."

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? Salazar was torn between shock and disgust. On one hand, he was getting out of trouble, and it was reassuring that someone had his back who was intelligent. On the other...it was really stupid, in a nice way, for Hermione to take all the blame.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Salazar and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them. This meant that Salazar carefully tried not to look directly into Snape's eyes, and Ron was staring triumphantly at a wall.

"Well, in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. Salazar was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger, five points shall be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else. It was also nice to get away from Snape. The man's Legilimency skills were proving to be quite annoying for Salazar.

"We should've gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled. Salazar had to disagree; they were lucky not to get in trouble. That, and the red head's logic was slightly off.

"Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us put of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we _did_ save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Salazar reminded him. It was funny the way every outcome was indirectly linked with other's actions.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend (though Salazar would be loathe to admit it outside, or inside, his outer Harry persona). There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.4

A/N: Well, that took longer than expected. Anyway, I didn't feel like adding as many Salazar thoughts in this chapter. One because the last chapter, I felt, had too many of them. The second is that I was just too lazy. And three, if you look carefully enough, you can see that some of Harry's Slytherin side comes out more in this chapter. You have to _really squint_ though. And get put a magnify glass while you're at it.

1. Reikai is the Spirit World, literally translated too. Can anyone tell I'm a Yu Yu Hakusho fanatic?

2. In Salazar's time, it was a professor's quarters. There had to more professors there than just the four of them. It's simply not practical, otherwise.

3. You must be wondering why Salazar Slytherin wants to win points for Gryffindor House. It's simple: he wants to fit in there better, so that, if he acts a bit too Slytherin, no one will question him. That and if he breaks the rules, the other members might forgive him more easily.

4. Instead of typing that sentence I almost typed, "There are some things money can't buy, for everything else, there's Mastercard."


	7. Where Certain Loyalties are Brought into...

Disclaimer's the same.

Chapter Six, Year One: Where Certain Loyalties are Brought into Question and Draco Finds Out that School Rules are Only Meant to be Broken if the Breaker Isn't Caught

The next day after the Dueling incident, Draco Malfoy was sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, contemplating the possible events that could occur because of his stupidity. One thing was certain though, he wouldn't have long to worry over what his father would do after Severus was through with him. Draco was sure he would die a martyr to the cause of trying to bring doom (expulsion) down upon the heads of Gryffindors.

Draco's musings were interrupted by the mail delivery. Just as expected, a school owl landed in front of his plate, an envelope addressed to him in Severus' script. The letter inside was concise, even more so than usual. Draco paled. He had better start writing his will.

……………….

"What were you thinking?" Severus hissed, glaring at Draco with the glare he normally reserved for Potter. "Don't you realize that you could've been expelled?"

"Of course not," Severus continued after seeing Draco's lack of response. "I suppose you felt clever, didn't you? That this was the perfect way to see Potter expelled. For him to be without Dumbledore's protection, an easy picking for Death Eaters. Now tell me," Severus had been shouting before, now he was speaking calmly, but with acerbic undertones in his voice, "have you been Marked yet?" Draco shook his head in reply, "Then what on earth convinced you that you could handle such a monumental undertaking!" Severus was shouting again.

"Sir, the goal wasn't to get Potter expelled at all! It was just a childish prank! I'll admit, it wasn't very well planned, but it was just a prank!" Severus experienced a feeling of déjà vu. These exact words had been uttered, nearly a decade ago, by Sirius Black. This only fueled his anger.

"Do you realize that this could have cost your father his position on the Hogwarts School Council?" Draco lowered his head again. He had raised it when he was talking to Severus.

"Do you know how valuable that position is…!" The rest of the sentence was left unsaid, it obvious to the two why the position was so valuable. "Didn't your father tell you to obey the school rules? Didn't you think he told you that for a reason!" Severus took a deep calming breath. He looked over to Draco who had his head bowed in shame. "Never, meddle in affairs that you do not truly understand, and also remember that everything your father instructs you to do is for a reason. Now leave my office and start to use that brain. Merlin knows it was given to you for a reason." Draco hurriedly left the office.

Severus sighed and watched the door close. He supported Dumbledore with all his heart, but if Draco was as much a carbon copy of his father as his father proclaimed…Severus sighed again. If Lucius had told him that these were the responsibilities that came with being the boy's godfather, he never would've taken the job offer.

……………….

As Draco made his way to the Slytherin common room, he felt strangely humbled and angry at the same time. He pushed these feelings to the side as he reached the expanse of wall that concealed the door to the Slytherin dungeons. It was time to pull some strings and remind people of unpaid debts.

…………………

Draco was elated. There had been a Hogsmeade trip, and most, if not all, of the teachers had been on that outing. This had given him the time needed to gather the item that would help to root out those not loyal to him. But, of course, something just had to interrupt Draco's feelings of joy. It was Quirrel.

"Troll-in the dungeons-thought you ought to know." Everyone stared at Quirrel in shock. It wasn't until he fainted that the Hall erupted into chaos.

'_Holy CRAP! There's a troll in the DUNGEONS! Where the hell are all of the Slytherins supposed to sleep! And what about our belongings! I just got that item today! I can't afford to have it potentially smashed into tiny worthless shards!'_ Draco threw down his plate, and attempted to leave the Hall without the Prefects noticing. The Slytherin Prefects had the reputation of noticing every detail, and so Draco might not have made his way out of the Great Hall had Percy Weasley not come bustling through like he owned the place.

Draco moved stealthily up to the second floor, trying to get to a secret passage that led directly to the Slytherin fourth year dorms. He mingled with Hufflepuffs so scared they didn't even notice a snake among the flock. Draco quickly hid in the shadows, behind a suit of armor, when he realized he was being followed.

It was Potter and Weasley. Both of them looking worried. Ron looking flustered. Suddenly, Weasley pulled Potter down behind a statue of a griffin, and whispered something to him. Draco was just beginning to think that they were going to snog each other senseless when he heard what must have startled them. Footsteps, and from the gait it was probably Severus. Draco's assumption proved correct when the man came limping down the adjoining corridor. _'Wait, limping?'_

Draco watched as Potter and Weasley started to follow Severus, when a horrid odor reached his nose. He watched as a shadow moved down the corridor that Snape just went down, and also watched as Potter and Weasley shrunk back into the shadows again. What followed the shadow caused most of the color to drain from his face. It was the troll.

'_It just figures, doesn't it? Here I am trying to AVOID the troll that I thought was down in the dungeons, and now I'm facing it! Well, I'm not sticking around to be killed!'_ And yet, try as he might, Draco was rooted to the ground, paralyzed with…it wasn't fear, but more like morbid curiosity.

The troll entered the girls' bathroom, and the paralysis was broken. Draco no longer had any desire to see what a mountain troll could do, and seeing that Potter and Weasley were already there, well, they could handle the situation admirably, of that he was sure, kind of.

Draco ran for it.

…………………

It was a few days after the Troll-in-the-Bathroom fiasco and the day of the Slytherin-Gryffindor match. Draco decided it was the best time to try out the new item he had gotten. It was a small pendant, easy to conceal and completely ordinary. For a Malfoy. The pendant was small and made of silver, with the Malfoy seal engraved on it. It was currently hidden under his turtle-neck.

When Draco had arrived at Malfoy Manor, inquiring as to whether or not their family had an item in their vault that would locate those who wished ill to the Malfoy family, Lucius had wondered why, originally, but when assured of what Draco was trying to do, gave him the pendant, instructing him to wear it concealed.

The pendant's power of locating bearers of ill-will toward any Malfoy was activated through communication. Anyone who talked to Draco, or who Draco talked to, who wanted to harm him or his family would be marked in red with the Malfoy signet on their forehead, plain for any Malfoy. The mark could only be seen by a Malfoy, or to anyone who was someone the Malfoys' respected.

Since this was a Quidditch match, and no one in Slytherin would miss out on the chance to see Gryffindor trounced by Slytherin, it was the ideal place to converse with everyone from Slytherin. Even Draco's Head of House.

Draco mingled with the crowd, chatting idly with people from all Houses. There was a surprising number of Slytherins who didn't seem to want harm him. Draco remembered when his father had sat down with him and had a talk. Lucius had made it seem like everyone was out to get them.

Draco's attention was pulled back to the Quidditch game as he heard shouts of horror erupt in the surrounding stands. He looked up and sneered. _'Just like Potter to try to gain even more attention from his adoring fans.'_ After watching Potter hang onto his broom for dear life, Draco had to admit that it was fun to watch. Just as Draco was beginning to truly wonder if he could hope that Potter would fall, another commotion, this time coming from the teachers' box, caught his attention.

He watched in a mix of shock, horror, and amusement as he watched Severus stomp on his robes in an effort to stop the fire and instead knocked Quirrel out of the box. The amusement and shock gave way to anger and his homicidal tendencies as he saw Granger attempt to sneak away unnoticed. He swore that she would pay for such a humiliation.

Draco wondered how many times he would have to keep moving his head as the noise from the crowd drew his attention to the Pitch again. Potter had been able to remount his broom during all the commotion in the teachers' box, and now was executing a steep dive. Draco craned his neck, deciding to ignore the ominous popping sound, and wondered just exactly when Potter would pull up, when Harry toppled off his broom and clamped a hand over his mouth like he was going to throw up.

And he did throw up.

"I've got the Snitch!" Potter shouted.

'_Damn!'_ Draco thought as three sections of the stadium burst out into confused cheers, _'I was hoping he had swallowed his tongue and was choking on it!'_ Draco decided to ignore the little voice in his head that was telling him that he would secretly enjoy testing his Seeker abilities against Potter's.

…………………

"I'm telling you!" Flint stated loudly and angrily all throughout lunch, "I'm telling you…" he was effectively silenced by a silencing charm.

"Oh shut up about the game!" a fifth year boy snapped. "Your ranting isn't going to make Gryffindor lose any House points."

"Gryffindor won! One hundred seventy points to sixty!" Jordan yelled randomly from the Gryffindor table.

"Say," Draco asked suddenly, "has anyone seen the Tree Frog?" Blank stared met his question.

"Oh, come on! Tree frogs swallow flying insects-Potter swallows flying Snitches?" Draco added, hoping that this was a big enough clue.

"Oh, Potter went to Hagrid's cabin with Weasley and Granger; I don't even want to know what all of them are doing in there."

"Thank you for that lovely mental image," Draco said dryly.

……………….

Sneaking around in the middle of the day, trying to look inconspicuous was really not working. Draco cursed again as he tried to find a way to listen in on the Trio's conversation without leaning against the door, or opening a window. Eventually, he shrugged and gave in, opening a window slightly.

"It was Snape," Weasley said, sounding confident, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you." Draco nearly snorted. Snape, curse Potter's broom in the middle of a game? Did they really think that his Head was really that stupid?

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, "Why would Snape do somthin' like that?" Draco's eyes widened as he heard that. The half-giant was smarter than a pureblood! _'Then again,'_ Draco reconsidered, _'this is Weasley we're talking about here.'_

Potter, Weasley and Granger looked at one another, obviously silently asking each other how much of…whatever it was they were involved in they should reveal to Hagrid.

Finally, Harry spoke in what sounded like sincere tones. "I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding." Draco wondered briefly if Severus had been trying to retrieve a soul, or something of that sort.

Hagrid dropped the teapot, causing Draco to slowly back away from the window, in case he had been spotted. It seemed he had given them a bit too much credit. Instead, Hagrid said:

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

"_Fluffy?"_

'_Fluffy!'_ Draco echoed mentally.

"Yeah-he's mine-bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year-I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" Potter asked eagerly. Draco blinked. It had almost seemed that, for a second, Potter had the cunning and ambition to be a Slytherin.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that it is."

"But Snape's trying to _steal _it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape is a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothing' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Granger.

Draco watched as Potter and Weasley exchanged amused glances, and saw Weasley mouth, 'Change of heart' then point to Granger.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!" _'You just said that you've read all about them. You have no experience with the practical. If you did, then you'd notice that Severus was muttering the counter!'_

"I'm telling' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen to me, all three of yeh-yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel-"

'_Nicholas Flamel!'_

"Aha!" said Potter, "so there's someone called Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?" Draco blinked. There was that Slytherinesque Potter showing through.

Hagrid looked furious with himself. Draco slunk away, guessing that that was the end of the particular conversation, and hoping to get to the dorm room, so that he could spell the door shut and have a few hours to himself to mull things over.

A/N: I'm really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, (Court: alright, that's good!) sorry I haven't updated for such a long time. I just…I couldn't find my Harry Potter book. I had all the others except the first book! Gah! Okay, I'm better.

Reviews: (I've just realized that I've never thanked the people who reviewed. So here it is.)

tawnyfawn: Thank you. I've tried to keep the level of workmanship the same (or better). I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Launigsiae: Thank you.

Bellatrix-Riddle: Thanks. When I read the first book a few years ago, I thought that Harry, Ron and Hermione were always in the right, and that everything they did was so smart and stuff. Now that I've reread the book, I've realized that a lot of what they did was really stupid. If Harry doesn't stop doing such stupid stuff, he's never going to be able to defeat Voldie.

MaraWeaves: Everyone has you to thank for me continuing this story. Well, you and Sam (a friend from school). I really don't know who betrayed Draco yet. I'll think of it soon.

aquariusbaby205: Well, since you're sitting next to me, I'll just tell you.

Carrie: I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I hope you enjoyed the update too.

Unseen Watcher: I'm glad you enjoyed the story so much, and I finally updated!

Nemi Jade: Well, the first chapter was supposed to be confusing…wait, did you mean confusing in a good way, or a bad way?

blubb-blubb: Yeah, I can't really find any either, although they have gotten more popular.

Cat323: Since the ghosts are kinda in the realm of the living and the dead at the same time, it would only make sense that they would know who Harry is.

Puck Silverbreeze: Well, I'm glad you found it interesting. I'm not sure how I should take the confusing…

Stahchild: I didn't realize at the time that the chapters would turn out that way. I did take the time to fix the spacing though.

Shadowed Rains: Now that I'm older, (and I know that I've said this before) I find them childish too, which is why I now enjoy the Slytherin characters more than I did the protagonists. That's also why I decided to write this…well, partially why I decided to write this.

Gaul1: Um…thanks?

gallandro-83: Thanks.

FanReader: What you say it true and I take no offense to your review. In fact, I'm flattered. However, the thing is, the plot (in SS) hasn't even really started yet. When certain things begin to happen, Harry (or rather Salazar) will begin to scheme. It's just that nothing has occurred to cause him to begin scheming. Thanks for the review.

fire sidoni: YYH rocks!

Allyana: Thanks! It wasn't updated soon, but it was updated!

meowcat00: I'm glad you do. -

lady sakura cosmos: Thanks!

Once again, I'm really sorry that it took so long to update.


	8. The Mirror and Torture of books

Chapter Seven, Year One: The Mirror of Erised (p. 212) and the Torture of Books

Disclaimer: Same old, same old.

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

And there was his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Over in a corner was his beautiful wife, smiling happily at him and bouncing his son. It was terrible that his son hadn't lived past birth. Salazar sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all. Besides, no matter how much one could wish for a corporal form, it still didn't replace the ache you could feel from being away from family.

Except-

"So, back again, Harry?"

Salazar felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Salazar must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him. Salazar cursed his preoccupation and his weakness.

Deciding to air on the side of caution, Salazar opted for the truth. "I-I didn't see you, sir." And winced as he realized how guilty that made him sound.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Salazar was only partly relieved to see that he was smiling. He wondered how many other times Dumbledore realized what was going on, and wondered why Dumbledore decided to step in now, since he had obviously had known what Salazar had been doing (Salazar, for one, hadn't seen Dumbledore in the hallway, and if the Headmaster was lurking the corridors invisible, he could only wonder why). He smelt a plot.

"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

Salazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes, sigh in impatience, or do anything that suggested that he was tired being treated like a toddler or knew what the Mirror did. "It-well-it shows me my family-"

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy." Warning bells went off in Salazar's head as he heard this.

"How did you know-?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. Salazar tried to think of what innocent activities a person could possibly do in peacetime while invisible. He didn't think of any. He was broken from his thoughts as Dumbledore asked, "Now, can you think of what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Salazar shook his head, hoping that Dumbledore wasn't a Legilimens. He kept his eyes firmly fixed one of Dumbledore's ears instead as a precaution.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Salazar thought, and decided that he would use this to test to see if Dumbledore would dare use Legilimency on "Harry" at such an early stage of his trust developing. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want…whatever we want…"

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. Salazar couldn't figure out if this was because Dumbledore realized he was lying, or if he just liked to build up suspense like that.

"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Salazar had listened to the entirety of that speech expecting Dumbledore to announce that desire is the devil's vulture that searches out weak victims, devours them, and brings back the corpses to suffer eternally in hellfire, or some other Puritan fanaticism (A/N: sorry to any Puritans!). His thoughts then went back to the idea that Dumbledore was a bit of a manipulating git when he was told that the mirror was being moved, that he might find it again and that Dumbledore knew about the cloak.

Salazar stood up, and abruptly asked, "Sir-Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" He said it as innocently as possible while trying to be as annoying as hell.

"Obviously you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled, as Salazar thought, 'Damn, it didn't work!', "You may ask me one other thing however."

"What do you see when you look into the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Salazar stared. Did the old man really think him that naïve?

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Salazar that Dumbledore had, in fact, expected him to believe that he was obsessed with socks, and that Dumbledore was definitely attempting to manipulate him. As he shoved Scabbers off his pillow (perhaps a bit more roughly than usually his norm) Salazar decided that, when the time came to defy Dumbledore at least a bit, he'd do so with zeal. He was not one to be manipulated.

……………

Draco sighed as he received the morning mail. He was required to go back home again for the holiday. While normally, he would have agreed to without question, he was irritated that his research on Nicholas Flamel would have be halted, or at least hindered, for a brief span of time. So far, all the books he had come across had stated the same thing. And while, at the manor he would have access to a different class of books all together, he wouldn't be able to make any true headway with his father breathing down his neck.

With these thoughts weighing on his mind, as well as the nagging one that kept asking why he cared what Potter and Co were doing, and both of these coupled with the cold and the fact that he would have to attend Potions first thing that day, did not put Draco into a good mood.

Once Draco arrived, set up his tools and began to make the potion, Draco decided, as usual, to lay into Potter, Weasley, and Granger to expend some very much unneeded frustration, "I do feel so sorry," said Draco, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home." He stared pointedly at Potter.

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled stupidly, and Draco felt the insane urge to just punch them. They always seemed to ruin his perfectly good comments with their laughter. He bet that the majority of the time they didn't understand what a name was, let alone an insult. It was truly insulting that he seemed to be only capable of attracting idiots to him.

But it was even more insulting that neither Potter, nor anyone else seemed to care about what he said. Besides, what would have happened if Potter had swallowed the damn snitch. Draco still maintained the belief that almost swallowing a snitch should not be permitted. After all, if he had swallowed it, it would've been destruction of school property!

And Draco's thoughts continued much in this fashion. Belittling Potter and just about the entirety of the school. Draco grit his teeth and began chopping up his root viciously. Snape passed, raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and mentally made a note to suggest that Lucius give his son some anger management advice.

The class ended without little incident. Longbottom melted his cauldron as usual, and everyone, except for a select group of about two people, was in a jolly festive mood. It was enough to make Draco violently ill.

And then, it occurred. Potter and his merry band of do-gooders decided to be obedient little elves and help Hagrid practice some long unused socialization skills. And everyone decided to be happy that the four were happy and put up with this obstruction happily, and the whole of Hogwarts was just too fucking happy! Like little dancing teletubbies happy! Not that he watched such a foolish muggle children's show. No, he was a pureblood, he had morals!

So, like any good boy scout who looked after the elderly, Draco decided to do something about the blockage before Dumbledore came down to inquire after the traffic and broke a hip. "Would you mind moving out of the way?" he asked, a bit less snidely than he intended, so he had to make up for it with the next insult. "Are you trying to earn some extra money Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose-that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family is used to."

And as luck would have it, Weasley attacked him right as Snape was coming up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

_'Ah, life is good,_' Draco decided, '_I get to insult Weasley, get away with it and cause Gryffindor to lose points all at the same time!'_ He did wonder at the fact that he didn't insult Potter at all, but put that out of his mind as he felt hunger pains.

……………

Draco's left eye twitched for what felt like the thousandth time that hour. When he found out that his father wasn't going to be home for another few days, he barricaded himself in the Malfoy library and refused to come out unless it was to take care of basic bodily functions. His mother thought it was homework.

Resisting the urge to incinerate a few books, Draco made a list of what he knew about Flamel:

1. He is an alchemist

2. He created the Philosopher's stone

3. Said stone could give either eternal life or infinite wealth

4. He is really old

5. His wife's name is Perenelle

Draco sighed as he realized that he could probably cross out the last two. The third one wouldn't really help either. So he created the Philosopher's stone; it was obvious to any half-wit that he and his wife had already used the stone…unless it didn't have to be melted down and mixed with potion's ingredients. But then the stone would still be in the Flamels' possession. They wouldn't just lend it out to the school without due concern.

_'Maybe someone is trying to steal it,'_ Draco reasoned. _'No, what sort of thief would give advance notice of a burglary? Maybe, if an individual only has to be connected to the Stone in someway, then maybe the Flamels think they're going to die soon. But let Dumbledore inherit it? They have to have great-great-great-great-great grandchildren running around at their age.'_

Draco blinked as he realized his train of thought was being derailed. Since burglary seemed like the best choice out of the two, he decided to go with that. He flipped over the piece of parchment, and wrote another list:

People with the power to take/would want the stone;

1. Voldemort…dead

2. Grindlewald…dead

3. Father…can't do that with Dumbledore

4. Some other Dark Lord aspirant…can't do that with Dumbledore

5. Dumbledore…if it's at Hogwarts to botch an attempted burglary he's going to protect it.

_'Well, that went far,'_ he thought sarcastically. He still didn't know why the Stone was at Hogwarts in the first place, or who would want to steal it, if it was going to be stolen.

Draco quickly scanned the library again to see if he had missed skimming any books that could pertain to Flamel. He didn't see any. Instead, he saw a ripped apart library that would be hell to try to rearrange, even with House Elves.

Before his eye could begin twitching again, Draco called for a house elf. He would've called for more than one, but with his mother home and preparations for Christmas already underway, she definitely would notice if more than one elf would go missing. Draco could only hope that she didn't make them (the elves) dress up in those green, red and gold costumes again. It was far too Gryffindor.

Draco shook his head to clear his mind of the weird images and began reluctantly helping the elf, who looked like he was going to fall over in disbelief. In between re-shelving books, he belatedly wondered how much luck Potter was having researching Flamel.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. My apologies must be getting repetitive by now. However, now that it's summer, I should be able to update more frequently if my language course doesn't get in the way.

Hey, no explanations!

Reviews:

1. Twin Kats: I didn't update for a while, so I hope you're still reading. I'm glad that you enjoyed the little YYH bits. I'm a rabid fan I'm afraid.

2. Lillian Marie Potter: I'm glad you liked it so much that you left such a long review. O.o;; I'm actually rather intimidated right now…well, I'm sorry I didn't update.

3. Silver-Entrantress-Elf: I'm glad you liked it. Slytherin Harry is great isn't it?

4. bandgsecuritiyaw: I'm sorry if I spelt your name incorrectly. Really, I am! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

5. Nic'sim87: Yes, the plot is unoriginal, but my story in and of itself isn't (at least that's my opinion). When something is clichéd, or in this case unoriginal, it's the writer's job to attempt and make something original out of it. If what you're trying to say is that my own work isn't original, (or that perhaps I'm infringing on someone else's work) then I'll just have to try harder.

6. hermoine21: I didn't update soon but I updated!

7. Unseen Watcher: I'm glad that you're glad that I'm continuing. Where in the story were you referring to with the spell thing? Was it the duel?

8. SSC: Lol. I totally agree with you there. I'm glad to know that there's at least one other person who shares my view on that.

Thank you to anyone else who took the time to read, and I hope you enjoyed the previous chapters, as well as this one.


	9. A Giant Mess of Things

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Harry would understand that Dumbledore may have been asking Snape to kill him…why can't he understand! WHY! Snape's not that evil. He isn't. I swear, he isn't. And if JK makes him, in the next book… : continues ranting: 

Chapter Eight, Year One: A Giant Mess of Things

Draco watched Potter carefully when he arrived back at school. He was purposefully lurking arouir desk during one Transfiguration class, hoping to hear parts of their conversation. They didn't notice a thing, no one did. Draco was proud of his lurking abilities, and was just congratulating himself when he realized that he was missing parts of the discussion. He zoned back to earth just in time to hear Granger mutter:

"I've searched through the entirety of the library's books pertaining to…well, just about every famous witch and wizard to know of during this day and age, and there's no mention of any Nicholas Flamel! Are you sure that Hagrid has his facts straight?" Granger said this all in rush and all in one breath. By the end of the paragraph, she was as red as Weasley's hair.

"I'm positive Hagrid's correct; I know I've seen that name somewhere before!" Potter muttered in his friend's defense.

"What about the Restricted Section?" Weasley asked, coming out of the stupor education had forced him into.

"I already checked with my cloak. Besides a screaming book, I really don't think that it's in there."

The conversation then moved onto more boring subjects, like what purpose a screaming books serves, and Draco quietly moved back to his seat. Or at least he attempted to. McGonagall chose that moment to return from her office.

"Mr. Malfoy, what in heaven's name did you think you were doing?"

"I was returning to my seat after throwing out a piece of parchment, Professor."

"And may I see this piece of parchment?"

Draco made a face. "You want me to put my hand in the garbage! But…but that's…_**unsanitary**_!"

"Five points from Slytherin for talking back to a teacher. Now, fetch the parchment, or I'll take off more points."

So, grumbling, Draco walked back, stuck his hand in, turned his head away, and began searching for the parchment all the while making faces and sounds of disgust. Laughter started around the room because of his antics.

"Mr. Malfoy, actually looking inside the bin would be conductive," McGonagall said to more sounds of laughter.

Draco huffed and looked inside. What he saw made him pale. "Aaaggg! DISGUSTING!"

…………..

The laughter in the Great Hall doubled when Draco walked in. It seemed as if the entirety of the school now knew about the incident in Transfiguration, as well as the detention and fifty deducted points. Life just wasn't fair.

As such, Draco was in a very foul mood. It was a type where the aggression could either be worked off by utterly destroying a room, or hurting someone. Draco had planned to take all the stress out on the Slytherin dormitories, until he was shoved down the stairs.

"Oh, I…I'm sorry, M…Malfoy. I d…didn't see you," Longbottom stuttered.

Draco's eye twitched. "Yes, you are very sorry, aren't you. I bet Mrs. Longbottom is ashamed she has such a worthless nothing as a grandson. After this year, I'm sure she'll pull you out once she realizes what a pathetic waste of money, space and oxygen you are."

Longbottom sniffed.

"I bet right now she's wishing that it was you that had been Crucio'd into insanity rather than your parents, not that they didn't deserve it; worthless little blood traitors that they are." Draco felt a slight twinge of guilt at the harshness of his words, but it was quickly recovered by his anger.

Hiccupping, Longbottom drew his wand. He waved it threatening. "Don't. Talk. About. My Parents. That. Way!" He said in between hiccups. He waved his wand, and attempted the Levitation charm. Instead a suit of armor was smashed in.

"Locomortor Mortis," Draco said, contemptuously. After seeing Longbottom wobble for a few minutes, begin to cry a bit, and start hopping up to Gryffindor Tower, Draco finally left, feeling generally unstressed and ready to face the world.

………….

The next day, it seemed as if Potter and co had finally found out who Flamel was, if the alchemy books they were carry around were any indication.

Draco was innocently passing by the staff room on the way to his next class, when he heard Dumbledore and Snape discussing the Stone.

"Headmaster, the Stone isn't safe anymore. We must move it immediately. Quirrel is after it. I have evidence to believe he's a death eater, hoping to resurrect the Dark Lord with it!"

"Severus, don't worry about the Stone's safety. I have a group of three, I think, very capable people already working on the problem." Draco didn't even have to see Dumbledore's face to see that damn twinkle.

A few minutes more of discussion, and the two left. Neither seemed to notice Draco's presence. Which was just as well; Draco didn't want to have to explain why he was here when class started three minutes ago. On top of that, Draco was deep in thought. He had a pretty good idea of who was working on the "problem", and was wondering if Dumbledore was crazy. He was also wondering why Severus was telling Dumbledore, but that only a second priority.

Draco skipped Charms and instead went to the bathroom to puzzle over the discussion. Lunch came and went, and still Draco had no clue to the reason behind Dumbledore's thinking, or Snape's betrayal.

…………….

It was a few weeks before the summer holidays, and the Golden Trio still had yet to act on the information they had gained, or make anything other than a half-hearted attempt to fit all the pieces together. It was driving Draco nuts. He didn't want to have to be the one to stop Quirrel. He wasn't sorted into Gryffindor after all.

And then, finally, it happened. The day after the final exam, Draco saw Potter jump up, say something to his lackeys, and begin sprinting down toward Hagrid's hut. Naturally, he followed.

…………

Salazar mentally berated himself as he ran toward the hut. _'How could I have been so stupid!'_ was a constantly recurring thought along with _'Why did I insist that damn hut be built so bloody far away!'_

When the three arrived, they saw Hagrid sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, but Salazar cut him off and gave him a dirty look.

""No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know the night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?" Salazar knew that the stranger's face was going to be disguised. Anyone who carries dragon eggs in their pockets are not going to be flaunting their appearance in public much.

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

Salazar sank down next to the bowl of peas. He felt faint. Was it just him, or did the world seem to become dumber by the minute?

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah…he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here…He asked about the sorta creatures I look after…so I told him…an' I said what I always really wanted was a dragon…an' then…I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks…Let's see…yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted…but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home…So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…."

……………

Draco fell over. A man, who just so happened to know that Hagrid wanted a dragon, showed up when he was getting drunk, bet an egg on a hand of cards, and never showed his face? There seemed to be a lot of coincidences, and a lot of stupidity. Who, in their right mind, would bet a Norwegian Ridgeback egg?

Potter seemed to have thought the same thing. The sheer incredulity on his face showed. A lot.

……………..

"And did he-did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Salazar asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well-yeah-how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluff's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an he'll go straight off ter sleep-"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey-where're yeh going'?"

Salazar, Ron and Hermione didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Salazar. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak-it must've been easy, once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

………….

Draco slunk in after the three and heard their conversation. So, the Gryffindor Golden boy wasn't as stupid as the rest of his year mates made him out to be, if he was able to figure out that that dragon egg had something to do with the Stone.

Draco was planning on confronting them in the corridor right then and there, but McGonagall confronted them. What he heard made his stomach ill. Dumbledore was gone. That meant that…if it was Quirrel working for/with Voldemort's bodiless spirit, no one currently in the castle would have a chance in hell of facing Voldemort and living, besides maybe Potter.

He left, shortly after hearing their plans, to tip off Snape. That would buy him some time to write a letter to the Headmaster.

A/N: Hi. It's been a while since I've updated. I know. I was busy learning Japanese and preparing for the SATII in world history. It's very interesting…except it makes your friends want to kill you when you start ranting about quipos in the middle of a class. Eh heh.

Anyway, I don't think I made this clear, but I'll try again. The Potions Master fic is a side-story to this. You know, a thing that isn't really conductive to the plot a main story, but is still a part of it? Like, a little fluff chapter that is separate from the actual story? Does anyone other than I (or am I supposed to use 'me'?) understand what I'm trying to say!

Reviews:

Twin Kats: Being busy sucks sometimes. Like with this. Thank god I don't have deadlines, that's all I can say. Well, actually, I can also say that that's one of the nicest reviews I've ever received. Thanks!

The Wandmaker: Eheh, funny you should mention a potions scene. That's what my little rant of an author's note was about, well, the second half was about that. I'm glad that you like it so much. I'm just so happy that the majority of the readers like this story!

meowcat00: I'm glad you liked it…but I don't know, it seemed kind of rushed to me…

Unseen Watcher: That makes sense…I feel stupid now. I also feel insensitive now that it's taken me so long to update. Oh well, I always look forward to your updates. There nice AND they contain constructive…not criticism, something like that, but nicer…

Kaaera: Oh, good, I'm glad people are enjoying the little added YYH bits. Heh, maybe I'll throw in some references to the Summons department and shinigami. Has anyone ever made a YnM YYH crossover? Well, in this part of the story, Draco is a behind the scenes, morally in the grey, type of character. Who know, maybe I'll make him evil.

mistressKC: Yep! And now we have another who's joined. Kaaera, meet mistressKC, mistressKC, meet Kaaera!

Lady-Slytherin-Warrior and NephyRiddle: I'm glad you both enjoyed it. Um, I updated, not soon, but…I dunno. Maybe I should start setting deadlines for myself.

SunStar Kitsune: Well, I'm going to have him beep beep beep after the letter and beep beep beep beep beep.

Now, for the reviews from PM:

Unseen Watcher: Um, you understand what I was trying to convey in the author's note, right? Please say yes, please!

Singing in the rainnnnnn: Of course I knew it was you, who else can be that annoying without any effort? And who else but you would understand my sick and twisted humor?

Boe: Well, the reason could have been because that chapter two wasn't supposed to be there. If you checked back, you would have seen that this chapter two actually makes sense. I kind of thought the fact that the characters' names in the old, accidental chapter two would have tipped you off (how else could a HP fic turn into a CCS fic other than by accident?). However, I am grateful that you alerted me to this problem, no matter how moronic you review sounded.

Metis: Well…I honestly don't know. I'd like Snape and Salazar to have at least a grudging respect, but I don't think that'll happen for a while.

SunStar Kitsune: That's a great idea! When I incorporate that into a future chapter, I'm going to dedicate that one to you! It was your idea after all.

illusionaric: This was a one-shot off-shoot (side-fic, whatever you want to call it). Of course I'm going to continue! I'm going to continue SoS, HoG and, in essense, continue PM.

And to the rest of the people who read these two stories…please say you understand what I was trying to tell you in the author's note! PLEASE! Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	10. Through the Trapdoor and Into the Fire

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Also, I'll be skipping right to the part when they are playing chess because I'm lazy. Actually, I'm tired, but it's basically the same thing. Kind of.

Chapter Nine, Year One: Through the Trapdoor and Into the Fire (p. 281 para. 2)

"Ready?" Salazar asked the other two, his hand on the door handle.. They nodded, he grit his teeth and pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Ron and Hermione shivered slightly-the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Salazar asked, hoping against hope that someone had spotted an alternative route, like a hole in the side of the wall. He had never been a great chess player, despite other's beliefs. It had taken years for him to master it, years that didn't matter anymore since it had been a millennia since he had last played. The afterlife held many things, but not, it had seemed, a chessboard.

"It's obvious isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room." The only door in the room was behind the white pieces.

"How?" said Hermione nervously.

"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we-er-have to join you to get across?"

The black knight nodded. Salazar wished that Dark magic was permitted in the school. With the proper curse he could demolish the white pieces, witnesses be damned.

Ron turned to the other two

"This needs thinking about…" he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces…." Salazar resisted the urge to sneer and say _"_Oh, really? I would never have noticed."

But Salazar and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, "Now don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess-"

"We're not offended," Salazar said quickly to stop the onslaught of words and to still his temper. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione you go next to him instead of that castle."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron. _'How predictable_._'_

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words, a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Salazar, Ron and Hermione took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board "Yes…look…"

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Salazar was wondering what would happen if they lost. Would they be killed? Surely they would.

"Harry-move diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay still, facedown. That seemed to answer Salazar's question rather well for him.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Every time on of their men were lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon, there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Salazar and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many wite pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think-let me think…"

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

"Yes…" said Ron softly, "it's the only way…I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Salazar and Hermione shouted. Well, Hermione shouted, Salazar just kind of muttered it, looking slightly pale. He understood though

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me-that leaves you free to…"

"Checkmate the king, I know," said Salazar softly. "I'm not daft, I understand. It's war." Hermione gaped at him.

Ron smiled sardonically. "Are you sure you're not a Slytherin?" he asked. Then he gave a thumbs up and stepped forward.

The white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor-Hermione screamed but stayed on her square-the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Salazar moved three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Salazar's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one final desperate look back at Ron, Salazar and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway.

…………..

After they had exited the room with a troll, they found themselves in front of yet another door. Taking as deep a breath as he dared to, Salazar opened the door to the next room.

There was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Salazar. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

While Salazar was pondering over the flames, and the similarities the ones in the second doorway bore to the Darkness flame and Mortal flame (1), Hermione had been busy observing her surroundings.

"Look!" she seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Salazar looked over her shoulder to read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, _

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand on either end,

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly are all of different size,

Neither dwarf not giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione let out a great sigh and Salazar, amazed, saw that she as smiling, the very last thing he thought that she would ever do in this situation.

"_Brilliant_," said Hermione. "This isn't magic-it's logic-a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

Salazar didn't reply. He was too busy muttering to himself, rereading the parchment, and pointing at the bottles.

Hermione sighed. "Let me see that, will you?"

A few moments later, both of them were pacing up and down the row of bottles.

"I found the one for the purple fire," Salazar told Hermione.

"And I believe I've found the one for the black," she said, and held up the smallest bottle.

"Are you sure?"

She reread the parchment for what had to be the seventeenth time. "Yes, completely sure. I'd bet my life."

"There's only enough for one." Salazar handed a bottle to Hermione. "You drink this. Get back and get Ron. Grab broomsticks from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy-go straight to the owlry and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him." _'Without resorting to more advanced magic_,' he added silently.

":But Harry-what if you-know-who's with him?"

"Well, I was lucky once, wasn't I? I might get lucky again."

…………….

"Here I come," Salazar said, and he drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward. He saw the black flames licking his body, but couldn't feel them and wondered if his nerves just weren't responding, or if he truly was protected. He tried to catch a glimpse at his hands, but he could see nothing but black fire-then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there-but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Tom.

…………….

Draco and Dumbledore made there way to the third floor.

"Professor, if I may state something?"

"Of course you may."

"You don't seem worried at all that our Savior is down there facing the Dark Lord."

"I have complete confidence in Mr. Potter and his friends, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley. Between the three of them, they should be able to tackle each and every challenge that presents itself."

Draco scowled at the back of Dumbledore's head. Yes, the three of them might be the dream team, and yes they each complemented the other well, but if Dumbledore honestly thought that they could…

"Ah, we have arrived," Dumbledore said softly with the twinkle still present in his eyes. He pushed the door open slowly.

Draco felt his jaw drop in shock. "Cerberus!" he whispered.

"Not quite," he said, before he spelled music to play from thin air. The dog, which had been drooling, growling and generally acting like a mad pit bull that was about to kill you, quieted. In a few seconds it was sleeping.

"This way," said Dumbledore, pointing to a previously unnoticed (by Draco) trap door. They descended and found a large cavern of Devil's Snare, which they quickly killed with a well placed Incendio.

They were just entering the room with the flying-keys when they spotted Weasley and Granger entering from the next room.

They stared at each other in shock. Dumbledore just continued beaming at everyone.

"What are you doing here!"

"I came to accompany Professor Dumbledore here, on his orders."

"We came to get Dumbledore!" Weasley turned red when he heard said person clear his throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you could kindly escort Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley to the Infirmary…thank you."

……………..

It was Quirrel.

_"You!" _gasped Salazar.

Quirrel smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought-Snape-"

"Severus?" Quirrel laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an over grown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrel?"

Salazar glared, angry at his own miscalculations.

"Then Snape didn't try to kill me."

Quirrel smiled. It was cool and calculating. "How right you are. _I_ tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter curse, trying to save you."

"So, that's why he wanted to referee the next match."

"Yes. He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really…he needn't have bothered.I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he _did_ make himself unpopular…and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

"Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Salazar.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew, you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"_You_ let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gifts with trolls-you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off-and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly.

"Now, wait quietly, potter, I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Salazar realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…but he's in London…I'll be far away by the time he gets back…."

Salazar tried to undo the bonds with magic. It just made them stronger. The only thing he could think of was to bide his time until…

"I saw you and Snape in the forest-" he blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me-as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…"

Salazar wondered why one of Tom's underlings was calling him by name…one of his names.

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone….I'm presenting it to my master….but where is it?"

Salazar tried to cast a bit of wandless magic. His diffindo was absorbed. Still had to bide his time, then. "Why call your master by name, why not avoid it like everyone else, like even the most loyal of Death Eaters do?" Salazar asked.

Quirrell chuckled a bit at this. "Because we are…closely connected. Our souls are practically touching. What we are is more intimate than lovers even."

Salazar tried to block out the disturbing mental images. He didn't need to see his descendant and…he shivered.

"So, uh, you bound your soul to him?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"…Why? When?"

"I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it….Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has been very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me…decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…."

Quirrel's voice trailed away. Salazar was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley-how could he have been so stupid? He'd _seen_ Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron.

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand…is the Stone _inside_ the mirror? Should I break it?"

Salazar's mind was racing.

_'What I want more than anything in the world at the moment,' _he thought_, 'is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So, if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it-which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I'm up to?'_

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to Salazar's horror and dawning understanding, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy…Use the boy…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes-Potter-come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Salazar fell off. Salazar got slowly to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Salazar walked toward him.

Quirrell moved close behind him. Salazar breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into it pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket-and as it did so, Salazar felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow-incredibly-_he'd gotten the Stone._

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently, "What do you see?"

Salazar decided to tell a partial truth and hope for the best. "I see myself surrounded my family. They're all so happy, smiling and waving…"

Quirrell cursed again.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Salazar moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it?

But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips

"He lies…He lies…"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you see?"

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him…face-to-face…."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough…for this…"

Salazar watched with a terrible curiosity as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Salazar gaped at the lengths his Heir would go to in order to achieve immortality. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Salazar had ever seen on a human. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. Quirrell was possessed.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered. "See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I can share another's body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks...you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

Salazar cursed as he realized that Tom must have used Legilimency. He had been studying Occlumency for the past few weeks, but his barriers must not have been able to hold against someone with more experience. He felt so stupid, for looking in his eyes, that he wanted to kill something.

Salazar took a determined step backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better you save you own life and join me…or you'll meet the same end as your parents….They died begging for mercy…."

"LIAR!" shouted Salazar suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him The evil face was now smiling.

"how touching…" it hissed. "I always value bravery….Yes, boy, your parents were brave….I killed you father first, and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn't have died…she was trying to protect you….Now, give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!" Salazar shouted, feeling like an idiotic, suicidal fool. He could only hope that Dumbledore would make it down so that he wouldn't have to blow his cover.

A few moments later, when everyone was getting that odd sort of edgy feeling that someone should just do something, and Dumbledore _still_ hadn't come, Salazar decided to make a run for it. He sprung toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Salazar felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle sharp pain seared across Salazar's scar; his head felt as though it was going to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head lessened-he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers-they were blistering before his eyes.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Tom again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Salazar clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands still around Salazar's neck-Salazar's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold him-my hands-my hands!"

And Quirrell, though pinning Salazar to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms-Salazar could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Tom.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Salazar, by instinct, reached up and gabbed Quirrell's face-

"AAAARGH!"

Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Salazar knew: Quirrell couldn't touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain-his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.

Salazar jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to through Salazar off-the pain in Salazar's head was building-he couldn't see-he could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Tom's yells of "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe Salazar's own head crying, "Harry! Harry!" though he doubted he would be calling himself "Harry".

He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness down…down…down…

A/N: Yep, it was a really fast update. You all have NephyRiddle to thank for that. I don't know how, but her review inspired me and stuff. Yeah, don't ask me how. I already said I don't know.

Explanations:

1. From YYH. Hiei knows the Darkness Flame technique, and also can summon the Mortal Flame.

Reviews:

SunStar Kitsune: I can't tell you really. I'm contemplating it. I'm also contemplating turning this into a slash fic. But, I'm also thinking that I should have them on opposite sides.

Lady-Slytherin-Warrior: Thanks! I hope this is soon enough.

meowcat00: I hope it's a good interesting.

NephyRiddle: Oh, I'm so glad you understood! And Good!Draco is just so much fun…but I don't know, I like him to be scheming as well…

Yeah, the Chamber of Secrets thing is one that I'm really looking forward too. I'm planning on it being radically different from the book. Okay, not radically, but different, more so than this one.

Yeah, basically, I just want to know how many of you would like for this to become a HP(Sal S.)/DM fic, a Draco-Harry friendship fic thing, or just have them be enemies. So, review and tell me.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I'm sleep deprived!


	11. End of Year One

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

Chapter Ten, Year One: End of Year One

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Salazar stared up at him. Then he remembered: "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone, quick-"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then, he died and T…Voldemort does!"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Salazar looked around him. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madame Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"Sir, the Stone-"

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived inn time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I received Mr. Malfoy's owl. Apparently he found out about the Stone, and Voldemort, and sent me this very useful owl only a few hours after I left."

"Malfoy?"

"It appears he doesn't want to follow so closely in his father's footsteps."

Salazar just stared.

"When I arrived, Mr. Malfoy was waiting. We went to the dungeons, and encountered Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. He escorted them to the Infirmary.Thankfully,I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you. I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer-"

"Not the Stone, boy, you-the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Salazar blankly. "But Nicholas Flamel-"

"Oh, you know about Nicholas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You _did_ do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Salazar's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicholas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, _very_ long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all-the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Salazar lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"Sir?" said Salazar. "There are some things I'd like to know, if you can tell me…things I want to know the truth about…."

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

Salazar thought this sounded…manipulative. Dumbledore had just told him straight out that there was information that he wouldn't tell him, and might never tell him, even if he had the right to know.

"Well…Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day…put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older…I know you hate to hear this…when you are ready, you will know."

Dumbledore was right, Salazar did hate this. But, if he wanted his other questions answered, he'd have to agree to this term.

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as you mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrel, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

"Sir, with all due respect, I think you are wrong."

Dumbledore's eyebrows moved toward his hairline. "What do you mean?"

"Before I blacked out, I think I remember Voldemort attempting to possess me. If the protection was only in my skin, then he could easily have possessed me. However, I propose that my mother's protection is inside my soul, and that the Quirrell's burning was caused by an after-effect of the fire. It would make much more sense for the protection to be in my soul. After all, people love with their soul."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes, before Dumbledore smiled. "That is an interesting idea, and it makes much more sense, now that I think about it. Yes, Harry. I do believe you are right!"

"Sir, I have two more questions."

"Ask away."

"Do you know who sent me the invisibility cloak?"

"Ah-your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things…your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And sir, did you cast a spell on me that bound me to the mirror, or the Stone?"

"Yes, actually, in a way. The mirror would have revealed the Stone's location to anyone who wanted to find the Stone-find it, but not use it. However, only you would've been able to receive the Stone from its hiding place. Really, Quirrell wouldn't have found the Stone in that chamber. It was safe in my office the entire time."

Salazar just stared at the Headmaster numbly.

…………..

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Draco asked. It had been two days since Quirrell had been stopped. Two days since the Gryffindor Golden Boy had fallen into a magical coma. The school was in an uproar, and several students had been removed already.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. To be blunt, I was wondering why."

"I didn't want to become one of Voldemort's lackeys. I've heard what he can do. I don't want that fate to be mine."

Dumbledore's eye twinkled. "Excellent, then let me introduce you to our resident spy!"

The door opened, and Draco turned around.

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Snape asked.

"You're a spy!"

Snape frowned at Dumbledore disapprovingly. "Why did you tell him?"

"He told me that he did not wish to become a Death Eater."

"And you believed him!"

"Um, hi. I'm still here you know."

Snape turned his glare toward Draco. "How do you know that he's trustworthy."

"I could see it in his eyes," was Dumbledore's cheerful response.

With one last glare toward the Headmaster, Snape and Draco left.

……………

"Ready, are you?"

It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of "Harry".

"You must be Harry's family!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"In a manner of speaking," said Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked away.

Salazar hung back for a last word with Ron and Hermione.

"See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have-er-a good holiday," said Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

"Oh, I will," said Salazar, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "_They_ don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…."

As Salazar was walking away, Ron pointed at him and mouthed "Slytherin" to Hermione, who nodded absently in agreement, looking for her own parents.

A/N: I've had this chapter completed about a week ago. I'm really, really sorry I didn't get to post this until today.

Reviews:

Lady-Slytherin-Warrior, Didaskaleinophobia, and SlayerWitchGilmoreGirls: I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I hope that this chapter isn't as bad as I think it is and I hope you'll forgive me for not updating sooner.

dark-artemis89: Personally, I'm a big Voldemort/Harry fan, but that would be very odd if I added that to this story. At any rate, I doubt I could write a decent story with that pairing anyway.

NephyRiddle: Yep, inspiration comes standard. Where is that from? Yeah, he could. I don't know what I was thinking when I was writing the bit in chap.9. Well, I can say now that Draco isn't going to be loyal to Sal only. Dumbledore just recruited him. I don't think they're going to be enemies anytime soon.

SunStar Kitsune: Oops. I'll go back and re-edit that chapter sometime within the this year.

japenese-jew: I was waiting for someone to respond to that little thing. I'm glad you liked them. Now that I think of it, I should have started changing the plot subtly from the beginning. You can definitely look forward to a radically different second year.

Unseen Watcher: All the exposure to "Gryffindorishness" took its toll in little ways. Before he was always intentionally acting the Gryffindor and was constantly mentally criticizing his classmates/friends. A large amount of the criticizing has stopped because he's kind of starting to think like a Gryffindor, as much as it pains him. Don't worry, all his Slytherin qualities are still there and completely intact. Hopefully.

andy-may: I was thinking of making Sal use an obscure/forgotten dark magic, but then he argued that it would alert the wards (and in turn Dumbledore), and Voldemort would be suspicious.

The poll thing is still up. Please tell me if you want DM/HP (Sal.S) slash or not. So far, I've gotten three votes for no DM/HP (Sal), and one kind of vote for it. Remember, don't just sit there and think, "Someone else will vote for ." Because I've got new for you. Don't rely solely on other people to push things through. The only person you can rely on for that is YOURSELF. Unless you have a mult. personality disorder. Then I don't mind, just don't try to destroy all of humanity, suceed instead. Just joking. Thanks.

I hope everyone who's read this so far has enjoyed it.


	12. Dobby's Warning

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

I would like to dedicate this chapter to Albertra Fang who made my school day, on April 5th, that much more bearable by her review that was so idiotic, it was, sadly enough, funny. I don't even think she's read Golding's Lord of the Flies, which is what fandom thisparticular story,and it's review,was from.

I think I'll post it here so everyone can have a little chuckle.

Albertra Frang 2005-04-05 ch 1, anon. who the hell uses the term "sandbox" try and get a little modern ppl! its sandpit! another bit of info Ralph: thats just such a good name NOT! u should use a name like mine which is Albertra by the way. Another thing you should call it "the meeting". And by the way I did not like your story you should improve in storywriting before writing something like this because suckers like me have to read it! thankyou.

Does this make any sense to you? I didn't think so. I only have one thing to say to you. I didn't come up with the name Ralph. Golding did, and his book is considered a classic, and he also received a Nobel Prize for literature. If you don't like Ralph's name, take it up with him.

Chapter Eleven, Year Two: Dobby's Warning

Salazar managed not to shout, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Salazar knew instantly that the elf was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.

As they stared at each other, Salazar heard Dudley's voice from the hall.

"May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"

The elf slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Salazar saw that the hem of the old pillowcase it was wearing was emblazoned with the Malfoy crest.

"Er-hello."

"Harry Potter!" said the elf in a high-pitched voice Salazar was sure would carry down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir…Such an honor it is…."

"Thank you," said Salazar, walking to his desk chair and sitting next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. "What's your name, and what are you doing here?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said Dobby. "I was sent here, by my master, to warn you of the dangers of going back to school this year."

"I'm going to ask you two other questions, if you don't mind, but can you be a little quieter? If the Dursley hear then…"

Dobby looked over at Salazar in understanding. "Dobby understands, sir. Dobby understands that some behaviour is punishable. But Dobby is wondering why you is being punished."

"It's a rather long story, and the questions I'm going to ask you bear more weight than my living family." Salazar waited for Dobby's nod before continuing. "Who's you master, and what's going to happen this year?"

"Dobby has many masters, but it is the youngest master who sent me. He ordered me not to tell you his name….Dobby is so glad that the young master is the great Harry Potter's friend. He won't be like the other masters!" At this Dobby beamed at Salazar happily. "He never punished us."

"So, what's going to happen this year that's so bad?"

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby and the young master have known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible thing?" asked Salazar at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then began banging his head frantically against the wall.

"All right!" cried Salazar, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me I understand! Just stop!" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on-this hasn't got anything to do with T-Vol- -sorry-with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod," he added hastily as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head.

"No-not _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ , sir-"

But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Salazar a hint. Salazar's eyes widened with understanding.

"Dobby, you have to swear not to start punishing yourself, and to just answer freely, please."

Dobby's eyes widened at the please. "Harry Potter truly is a kind person. A kind, kind soul! I'll swear that I won't!"

Salazar coughed a bit, uncomfortable with being called "kind". "Are the Malfoys behind this?"

Dobby's eyes widened, and his hands began to reach for the lamp.

"No, Dobby, you swore!"

Dobby paused and said slowly, "I is bound to the Malfoy family not to dishonor them. That is part of the vow my ancestors took."

"No, you're not dishonoring them," Salazar thought quickly. "You said that the youngest master ordered you to warn me. If I don't know who is plotting to kill me, how can I consider myself properly warned?"

"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts! How can Dobby be so blind…"

"Hogwarts has more protection, besides, my friends are there and…"

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Harry Potter?" said Dobby slyly.

"How do _you_ know my friends haven't been writing to me?" Salazar asked, looking at the elf suspiciously.

"We're Seers," came a very familiar, dry, sarcastic drawl.

Salazar whirled around, wand in hand, to face Malfoy. "Malfoy, what are you doing here!"

"Dobby is sorry, master! Dobby did not mean for Harry Potter to find out!"

"Don't worry, Dobby, it's not your fault, I should've had the foresight to give you a new, crest-less pillowcase."

"Why does master's friend have master at wand point?"

"He's a little jumpy."

Salazar felt his eye twitch. "Either you tell me what's going on, or you die."

Draco stared at Salazar in confusion, and then began looking around him. He only needed to turn his head to notice a Runespoor's right head angrily hissing at him. Draco paled slightly. Salazar didn't think it was humanly possible for him to become even paler.

"My father is planning on…" Draco's statement was cut off abruptly by a loud burst of sound from Dudley's television.

"Yes, my creation! Grow! GROW!"(1)

Salazar and Draco stared at the wall, slightly scared by the noises being emitted from the other side. Salazar quickly pushed Draco and Dobby into his closet when he heard Uncle Vernon rushing up the stairs, yelling that it was just his son's television. Dudley was climbing the stairs as well, and yelling to please let him tape the show. Between the two of them, it was a surprise the poor stairs didn't collapse.

When all the commotion had finally ended, Draco and Salazar continued their discussion.

"As I was saying, my father is planning on unleashing some horrible monster that's locked somewhere within the deepest bowels of the school."

"The Chamber of Secrets?"

"It's likely."

"How?"

"That's the question. I've been trying to figure it out on my own. All that I've found out so far is that whatever the device is, it's small and ordinary looking."

"Do you know what the monster is?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure it's some type of dark creature. Maybe an acromantula or a nundu or a basilisk or some type of dragon or…"

Salazar felt like laughing at the irony of the situation. As it was, his sudden twitches caught Draco's attention.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that, it's so obvious, isn't it? The Slytherin House crest is a snake; Salazar could talk to snakes. If he was going to create a Chamber of Secrets, he'd put in a creature that, not only could he control, but that would also symbolize his pride." Salazar grinned at the thought of psychoanalyzing himself. "Isn't the basilisk also called the King of Serpents? Wouldn't Salazar consider himself to be the King of the Serpents of Slytherin house?"

"I thought that the creature was a basilisk, but it just seemed too obvious."

"Maybe he was counting on it being too obvious."

"As much as I'd like to discuss this at greater length, I must tell you that I have alerted the Weasleys that you are going to be staying at one of the Malfoy estates with me and two other people."

Salazar looked at Draco oddly. "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?"

"No, it's just that you seemed like decent company. That, and you don't seem too unbearable Gryffindorish," Draco said with a grin. "The two go practically hand-in-hand."

There were two popping noises that sounded from the downstairs kitchen/dining room. Then the slightly hysterical yelling started.

Dobby disappeared with a crack when the stairs started to creak again.

The bedroom door opened, and Snape entered looking vexed.

"Mr. Potter, gather your belongings and…Draco, what are you doing here?"

"Umm, standing Severus."

Snape sighed in frustration. "Just help Mr. Potter pack his belongings. When you're finished, just stay up here, we don't need a relapse of the chaotic scene downstairs." With that said, Snape left to deal with "the chaotic scene downstairs".

Salazar sighed and stared at Draco. Draco stared back.

"Okay, look. When we get to your estate, we don't attempt to kill each other, or maim each other, or attempt to do anything that will physically or psychologically harm the other, deal?"

"Deal, on one condition," Draco said

"What?"

"You tell me why you aren't in Slytherin. And, you let me test something on you. I swear that it won't harm you in anyway."

Salazar stared at Draco suspiciously. "How about we seal an Unbreakable Vow on this?"

Draco sighed in annoyance, and looked up at the ceiling in a "why me?" fashion. "Potter, I'm not Vowing anything as trivial as this."

Salazar's eyes widened in rage at his life being called trivial. "Well excuse me for caring about my well-being!"

"Yes, excuse you."

"Why you little…"

"Boys, what's going on in here. Why aren't you packed?" Salazar and Draco looked toward the door, startled. They hadn't heard anyone climb up the stairs, so it was a surprise to see a man with light-brown hair and shabby set of robes standing in front of them.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Salazar asked suspiciously. He didn't know what was going on with him today. First he didn't notice Draco, and then he didn't notice this man. He'd have to go to St. Mungo's if it got any worse.

"Remus Lupin. I was a friend of your father's. I imagine that you must be terribly tired of hearing this, but you look extraordinarily like James. Though you do have Lily's eyes. As to how I got in, I came with Severus." Remus scanned the room for any sign of books, broomsticks, trunks, caldrons or ingredients. When he found none, he frowned.

"Where are your school things?" he asked.

Salazar blushed in embarrassment. "They're in the downstairs cupboard," he said quietly, earning disbelieving looks from the other two.

"Well then, I'll just go get them, shall I?" Remus asked, breaking the awkward silence. And without another word, went to fetch them.

A/N: Yes, a quick update. And I've started to lay the foundation for any Draco-Salazar friendship/relationship. I don't know when, if I ever will, I'll begin to work on that pairing, but probably not for a while. Things are going to go faster in this book too. At least I hope so.

1. For any Invader Zim fanatics, you should be able to recognize that little quote from the hamster episode.

Reviews: Wow, 26 reviews!

LadyPhoenix121: Really! Wow! Thanks! I've only read a few stories that involved Slytherin, and they weren't a reincarnation one. I kind of just developed a one-shot in my mind, and then everyone just urged me to write more than a one-shot, so here it is.

Salazar is definitely going to be doing things more his way in this book. Heh. I'm hoping that this year is going to have more twists than a badly written soap opera.

Purple Artichokes from Mars: I just hated how Harry never seemed to notice what was going on around him until the 5th book. It was so annoying! Not only that, but Salazar showed that "Harry" can think for himself. A kind of subtle warning to Dumbledore.

Rion: Yeah, that's my main concern with the pairing, how would it work? I was sick and tired of all the stories where they make Ron totally oblivious. Some of them are very good, but no one in existence can be so blind. He may be a bit moronic, but he's been living with Salazar for about 9 ½ months, he's got to notice once in a while that his friend acts OOC sometimes.

I'm glad you liked that statement. It was kind of the only way I could keep Snape and Dumbledore from arguing the entire time. Yes. Salazar did show more Gryffindor traits by the end. As I've said, Hermione and Ron have been rubbing off on him. But don't worry, with Draco around, he's going to revert a bit more back to his old Slytherin self.

That idea with Flamel seems interesting. I'll have to toy with it to see if I'll use it though. It's a very good idea. Why don't you write a story about that?

Salric: Hmm, adopting each other as brothers…now that's something I've never thought about. Gee, between you and Rion, this story definitely is going to take some radical twists.

Smallville Girl: I just couldn't resist doing that. Refer to Purple Artichokes for the reason why he corrected Dumbledore. As for the slip up, he did that accidentally. He's been called Voldemort Tom in his mind so often, it just came out. Salazar wasn't reborn immediately after he died. He kind of lived in Reikai for a while, able to observe what happens on earth, and annoyed by the other Founders. He was kind of just waiting for his chance to reincarnate. There was a long waiting list.

blah: Thank you. To tell you the truth, I'm looking forward to the plot twists too.

japanese-jew: Thank you. I have to agree with you. Rad sounds like some sort of corny surfer lingo.

firelegs: Thanks. I don't think that Draco will be Sal's enemy, in this year at least. I don't really mind that you don't like slash. One of my best-friends can't stand slash. Whenever I trick her into reading even the most G rated line, she starts screaming.

dark-artemis89: Yea! Another fan! Ehem, anyway, that pairing would belike incest, and I try to steer away from that stuff. Although, oddly enough, if I see a James/Harry story with a plot, I'll read it. I don't know why, I just like that pairing. I'm weird.

AidanPryde: Thanks!

NephyRiddle: Where was what from? Oh, that, yeah. I was referring to the inspiration comes standard thing. Now I know that it definitely comes from a car commercial though. Thank you!

Silver Kayasha: I'm glad you liked it. I'm also glad your so flexible.

Anon: Thank you, but I don't really have a choice in the matter, the readers do. I'm not even voting in the matter. So, I'll just take your review as a vote, shall I?

Shenri: Sal is humorous. I'm actually basing him off of a combination of Hiei and Yusuke. So, this is what I think they would be like if their minds, souls, whatever, were squashed together. Flippant, sarcastic, and realistic. Actually, that describes Hiei pretty well. I wonder where Yusuke went.

blind-phoenix: Relax! I'm glad you like the story, and I'm glad that you told me your opinion. I'm hardly going to chew off your head! One of my best-friends can't stand slash. I know I mentioned earlier in another response that she starts yelling if I trick her into reading some! Now, if you were a flamer with horrible grammar, didn't know what you were talking about and basically a moronic incompetent, I'd start laughing hysterically, probably post your flame up here to spread the joy, and respond with some sarcasm.

Lady-Jules: Thank you. As I said before, I'm glad your flexible with the pairing.

SlayerWitchGilmoreGirls, meowcat00, Lady-Slytherin-Warrior: Thank you for the reviews, I updated too.

illusionaric, Fuzzball2000, andymay, mscs3, Veronic, hectate-dark-magic, blarg: Thank you for the votes.

And on that note, so far the votes are

Sal-Draco friendship: 14 Sal/Draco: 6 Either: 2

To everyone who read, I hope you enjoyed it. Remember, the poll is still on.


	13. A Highly Disfunctional Neighborhood

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

Chapter Thirteen, Year Two: A Highly Dysfunctional Neighborhood

After Salazar finished packing, Snape finished altering people's memories, and Draco finished hunting down the runespoor (he never did find it), they were ready to leave. Snape pulled a portkey out from a pocket, and they appeared in a house, filled with Muggle utensils, and generally looking very un-Malfoyish.

Salazar stepped outside to get a better look at his temporary new house and the surrounding neighborhood. The neighborhood was what one could generally find in a Muggle town, and the house looked very...very...well..., it looked like a...

"Beach house? Malfoy, your parents bought a beach house in a Muggle town?" Salazar asked incredulously.

"Huh?" Draco's head suddenly appeared in the threshold. He looked around. "Well, I guess they did. Isn't that strange?"

The two were momentarily distracted from their confusion as someone lit a fire in front of their house. In the middle of the day no less.

"That's it, Muggles are officially insane, but hey, you should get along wonderfully with them. That said, I'm going to unpack."

Salazar shook his head, and went inside the house.  
...  
"Alright, let's lay some ground rules first," Snape said, glaring in particular at Salazar and Draco. "No magic will be cast here. At all. We are infested with Muggles, and they will eventually notice even the slightest bit of household magic. In case you're wondering, I'm directing this to Lupin."

Lupin blinked at Snape innocently.

"Next, the two of you will not attempt to kill, maim, or psychologically and/or emotionally harm the other, is that understood? Good.And lastly, it would be a wise idea to try to not refer to the Muggles as such. Or mention the Dark Lord, or anything pertaining to the Wizarding world in general while not in this house. Furthermore, these rules are liable to change and more will be added on as needed. I think that's it." Snape trailed off and stared at a wall, looking a bit disturbed. The others turned to look at the wall as well.

The noises of an arguing family could be heard. Suddenly, there was a giant crash, and a fan went flying out of the house, into a parked van. Curses could be heard two houses down.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Salazar said dryly, staring as a young man began to run, closely followed by another man, presumably the van's owner, and a small mob.

"And people honestly believe Trelawney is insane. Have any of my colleagues ever visited this neighborhood?" Snape muttered, also staring as, what could pass as an impromptu street theatre drama unfolded.  
...

After everything settled down, and the four wizards chose their bedrooms and unpacked, Remus decided that it would be a good idea for Salazar and Draco to meet their new neighbors. Needless to say, they didn't feel it was appropriate to label it as a good idea. A bad idea was a better name. So was insane and suicidal.

Draco sighed and looked at Salazar angrily. Salazar glared back.

"You ring the doorbell. You're a Malfoy."

"Oh, and what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, your rich and a pureblood. That and you act like a girl sometimes. So, ladies first."

"Oh, but I'm not Harry-bloody-Potter, the Boy-Who-Won't-Friggin-Die. I think you should have the honor."

"Of what? A heroic and tragically early death by fan?"

The staring match began anew. It was interrupted by a door opening, and a girl staring at them oddly.

"Could you possibly.stare at each other somewhere else? Preferably not in front of my door?" she asked. She looked possibly 15 or 16 with brown hair.

"We are new around here, and were wondering if we could become better acquainted."

The girl stepped back and slammed the door in their faces. The sound of locks clicking into place could be heard.

"Good going Potty, now that girl thinks your some type of rapist," Draco said, crossing his arms and attempting to drill a hole through Salazar's scar with the sheer power of his mind. It didn't work.

"Oh, so you couldn't interrupt me or anything!" Salazar exclaimed, whirling around wildly, and almost causing Draco to tip over the steps' railing.

"No, it's too much fun watching you suffer."

Salazar made a noise of annoyance and threw his hands up in the air. He attempted to cross the street to move away from the "annoying proof of the banes of incest", and was almost run over by a giant maroon monstrosity on wheels.

The two could hear screaming from the same house they'd just left. It sounded like a two year old. It also sounded like he was screaming 'Hummer'. But Draco knew that couldn't be right. What was so bad about a person who hummed? He did it sometimes! His father did it sometimes. Must be a Malfoy thing.

A girl stepped out of the truck. She looked rather pale and had black hair. She looked around 15 as well. Salazar attempted to introduce himself again.

"Er, hello, My name's Harry Potter. I'm new here."

"Really? That's nice." There was silence.

"..You really don't have the greatest social skills, do you?" Draco asked when it became apparent that no one was going to break the silence soon.

The was a slight 'hmm' and a shrug.

"So, uh, what's you name, do you live here?"

"Why do you want to know?" The girl said, suddenly defensive. "And who's he? Also, do you have a list of any sexual based crimes? Do you have a murder rap?" There was a glare.

"Ah, nooo..." Draco said, backing away. That girl was paranoid. "I think Harry and I are going to take our leave now," he said, starting to slowly back away.

"So, you've either murdered or molested and/or raped someone. Or both. So, which is it?"

Draco and Salazar began to back away.

"She's crazy," Salazar whispered to Draco. Draco nodded in response. Then, when all hope seemed to be lost.the door opened, and the girl from earlier poked her head out.

"Annej! Jenna! Alugilac! Whatever you want to call yourself, get in here and stop scaring and mentally scarring people!"

With one last glare at the two, Annej, or Jenna, or Alugilac, whichever her name was, went into the house. The yelling began again. Something about easter bunnies, glomping and demands to be unhanded.

"...I think I've had enough of meeting our neighbors," Salazar said. That was one of the oddest moments of his lives.

Draco nodded silently, still staring at that house with round eyes.

A/N:

IMPORTANT THINGIE! ONLY VOTE FOR THE POLL ONCE!

This came later than was expected. It was because of soccer. Soccer practice and a mandatory soccer camp. It left me too sore and too tired to do anything but...yeah you get the picture. Luckily for you, I slightly pulled my achille's tendon. I don't get to play for a week now. This is kind of short I know, but I got some basics down...

The whole fan incident was real, and happened to a friend of mine named Courtney. She wrote the Marauder's Summer Vacation. It's funny, you should go and read it.

And don't worry, the new people won't have much bearing on the story...well, a little, but they won't suddenly develop super powers and cause Sal and Draco to fall madly in love with them. I acrtually based them off of me and Court, so they have all of our bad habits and stuff. They'll only be there for the next two chapters or so.

Reviews:

NephyRiddle: Oh, yeah. It's an entirely different story.I haven't really given any thought to the basilisk yet. When I come to that bridge, then I'll consider it.

andy-may: You voted twice already? I'll have to subtract one vote then. I should have mentioned it earlier though. You can only vote once. Once.

japanese-jew: I just couldn't resist adding in Zim. He just applies to everything. It's some law of nature or something.

twisteddagger: Thanks. I'm trying to make it as original as possible at the moment.

like whoa: Thanks also. I updated, it took a little while. Not as long as some other times, but still a bit longer than I would have liked.

ivan the terrable: Well, that's actually a good question. I didn't notice that it just disappeared before, so right now, it's a plot hole. Shhh, don't tell anyone! But eventually, I'll make it into...something. Maybe a...I dunno. Thanks for pointing it out. You get a cookie! And the knowledge that you were the only one to notice AND tell me about it. I like your name too. It's clever. Terri...Terra, earth. I like it!

Didaskaleinophobia: I'm glad. That chapter was much more random than the last, and less by the book. Ah, no pun intended. I'm also glad you liked the last lines. I'm planning on having them figure it out, or something, eventually.

kawaii chibi shun: I'm glad you love it, and thank you! You don't know how much your review meant. It's the little things that are added on that sometimes catch a person's eye the most, and your last few words definitely caught me eye. "whichever is easier for you to write." The last person that said that was a friend of mine.

Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne: In updated! In a week no less! Or about a week. But hey, who's calulating?

Inu-Angel Z: We need more people like you! The laid back kind. The kind that aren't obsessive over small details like some others! I need to become like that!

veronik: You'll just have to wait and see. It'll all become clear for you in the next chapter.

dark-artemis89: Well, Sal probably isn't very Slytherin in this chapter yet. When he gets back to school, he will be...hopefully. I don't know why, I just can't seem to write Slytherin Sal anymore. IT'S HORRIBLE! He's going to be OOC for the rest of his career in my fic! Well, hopefully not. Hopefully. Let's just pray.

Alright now, it's time for the count.

Friendship with 18 votes

Sal S/Draco with 7

and either or with 4

And a thanks too k, SunStar Kitsune, lunadea21, Medabart, Dark Lord Frederick, and Szihuoko for the votes!

Everyone else, I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as a friend of mine apparently enjoyed betaing it. And as much as my ankle hurts. And as much as...I just really hoped you enjoyed it.


	14. Explosive New Neighbors

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

Chapter Fourteen, Year Two: Explosive New Neighbors

A new day dawned, and Salazar and Draco drudged themselves out of bed to find out more about their new residence. Not that they were overly excited. They'd had enough interaction with their neighbors to last several lifetimes, a few centuries, seven hours, 53 minutes and 42 seconds. Give or take a day or two.

So, they began their search. Instead of learning anything, they ended up with another mystery.

"What sort of town doesn't have a library?" Draco fumed. "Are all the people here illiterate!"

"You never know," Salazar said. "They're certainly odd enough."

"But, no library and no bookstore!" People were beginning to stare. To them, normal people didn't stand in the middle of a sidewalk, being a path impediment and shouting about books.

"Really, Malfoy, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were surprised."

"Hah hah. Can't you just see me laughing hysterically?"

"Nope," Salazar said, overly cheerfully. He gave a little wave as Draco glowered at him.

Draco sighed and looked up at the sky as if asking "why me?". Salazar was looking around, thinking.

"I have it!" Salazar snapped his fingers.

Draco looked over in surprise. "Can't you see me indulging in self-pity over here! Honestly, Potter and his self-centeredness," he huffed in annoyance.

Salazar continued speaking as if Draco hadn't said anything. "We should be able to buy a map from a deli or convenience store…" he trailed off as he thought of something else. "Um, Malfoy, do you have any money on you?"

"Of course I do. What do you take me for?" Draco asked indignantly. He began to pull out a few galleons, only to stop and peer at Salazar calculatingly. "You will pay me back, with interest."

"Let me rephrase that," Salazar said with a false cheerfulness. "Do you have any Muggle money?"

Draco looked at Salazar in horror.

"Shall I take that as a 'no' then?"

"Do we have to go back to that street?" Draco asked, wearily. Not there for a day, and already he was irked and slightly scared of his neighbors. It was a new record.

"Unless your house suddenly relocated itself, yes."

…………….

After Draco and Salazar had gotten their money and bought a map (they were in Rosebank, Staten Island, New York), they returned home. They were also hoping that, against all odds, their neighbors would be acting at least a bit normal. They were, oddly enough, although, there was one problem.

"Damn it!" Draco swore, and pulled him down behind a parked car. Salazar looked over at him curiously.

"You see that pale bloke, with the black hair, that looks like a bit like you?" Draco asked.

"Yes, that's Tom Riddle, isn't it?"

Draco stared at Salazar incredulously. "How did you know that?" He whispered furiously. Tom was looking around the street, seemingly lost in thought.

"Well, I saw a picture of him when I was looking through the old year books. Didn't he get an award for special services rendered to the school?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't know why you were looking through the year books, and I don't care. What I do know is that he's a Death Eater who wants to kill you."

Salazar stared at Draco in mock horror. "Kill me? What did I do?"

Draco sighed in annoyance. "Think for once, what could you have possibly done that would cause the Dark Lord's minions to try to get you head on a pike?" He asked sarcastically. Draco didn't wait for an answer, he turned around and continued surveying the street and surrounding houses.

……………..

The moment they were sure no one was watching, the two quickly ran to their house, opened the door, went inside and began closing all the blinds.

"Severus!" Draco yelled. There was a loud thud, some muffled cursing and footsteps. A few moments later, a slightly singed around the edges Severus emerged.

"You yelled?"

"Tom Riddle is here!"

Severus paled. "Lupin!" he yelled up the stairs.

While Severus, Draco and Remus were busy discussing their next course of action, Salazar had taken up a pen and paper.

"Um, guys?" Salazar asked, sounding uncertain. "I think you should see this." Salazar held up a piece of paper bearing the name Tom Marvolo Riddle and the words, I Am Lord Voldemort. "I have the hunch they're the same person."

…………….

Tom smirked as he surveyed his imperio'd "family"(1). Their daughter, Courtney, had given him the hardest time, but it wasn't something that he couldn't overcome.

Lucius Malfoy had given him back his corporal form, using his wife as the conduit and her life force. If Lucius had raised his spawn correctly, then there would be no need to kill Draco, and Dumbledore wouldn't know. But, Draco had defected and alerted both Dumbledore and the Ministry. As a result, the Manor had been raided, and Lucius killed. But there was always some good news to go with the bad. He had found out where Draco and Harry Potter were. Staten Island would never be the same.

………………

Salazar sighed and tried to explain the situation, again. It yielded the same result.

"So, they share the same letters!" Draco yelled. "That doesn't mean they're the same person!"

"If you don't believe me, ask Dumbledore!"

"That's Professor Dumbledore," Severus corrected.

"Why don't we just call to make sure?" Remus suggested.

"As I said before, it's too dangerous. If we do that, we could be tracked. Also, one of the two fireplaces could have traps on it. Put in place by Death Eater enthusiasts."

"And having Voldemort living next door isn't at all dangerous either!"

The argument continued on for several minutes until Remus threw up his hands, and marched purposefully over to the fireplace.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked with a glare.

Remus glared back. "I'm calling the Headmaster. It never hurts to take precautions."

………………

On August seventh, the citizens of Rosebank were startled to hear around twenty cars back firing. They were even more surprised when around twenty people appeared, all wearing robes and holding wands.

Several of the elderly had heart attacks, and numerous people fainted when a house blew up, and debris and chunks of smoldering human flesh rained down upon the scene. The cause of it was a pale sixteen year old with black hair.

……………..

"Drop you wand and raise your hands, and you won't get hurt!" an auror yelled.

Tom just smiled, cast Morsmordre and Apparated away, to much cursing on the part of the aurors.

A/N: Hello, school's sucked. Soccer's sucked too. I spend more time at school than I do asleep. When I get home, I only have time to eat, shower and finish my school work. Luckily for you, I'm very sick. Now, you get an update.

1. It's the same family with the girl who slammed the door shut in Sal's and Draco's faces. I'm going to be killing off my friends and myself in the next few chapters.

Reviews: I'll reply to the reviews when I don't feel like I'm going to fall asleep on the keyboard. I hate my meds.


	15. The Portkey

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

This chapter is dedicated to Mozes & The Lil' Squirt's HP Fan-club and the troops in Iraq.

Chapter Fifteen, Year Two: The Portkey

Severus Snape was not having a good day. Seeing the teenage form of your, apparently not-so-dead master can do that to a person. He half expected the mark on his arm to begin burning. He was glad it didn't; he wasn't really looking forward to tea and biscuits with the Dark Lord.

He sighed, irritated, as he remembered the Dark Lord's favorite pastime. He didn't so much as blink as the house next door blew up. In his opinion, the bloody torso that fell through the roof didn't really warrant the full out hysterics it garnered.

Severus felt his left eye twitch. It was a maddening feeling, really. He'd never had a twitch before he'd joined the Death Eaters. He would've seriously considered suing for unsafe working conditions, poor pay and no health insurance, if the Dark Lord was sane and Severus was sure that he wouldn't be killed, have his soul sucked out of him, or tortured.

"Wow, I never knew that humans exploded that well," Salazar said dryly. The crackling of fire was the only sound that broke the silence. Remus and Draco stared at Harry with a mix of incredulity and worry.

"Er, Potter, are you alright?" Draco asked, backing away from the obviously insane hero.

"Yeeessss," Salazar responded slowly, "why wouldn't I be?"

"You do realize that you just said that humans exploded well, don't you?" Draco asked desperately, looking shell-shocked.

"Yeeesss."

Draco just gaped at Salazar. Salazar raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Er…right. Severus, are you alright?" Remus asked, staring at him with concern. The Potion's Master was just standing there, _slouching_ and looking as if Dumbledore had propositioned him or Filch had told him he has wet dreams about him.

Severus jerked himself out of his stupor. "We should leave, the aurors are going to checking the houses as soon as they've obliviated the Muggles out there. Everyone, start packing."

* * *

Draco sighed and looked at Salazar. "I'm already packed, you?"

"Never unpacked."

"Oh."

There was relative silence until, "So, how are we going to leave? The Floo system is going to be monitored, the aurors have anti-apparition wards up, and they're also going to be scanning the skies for brooms…"

Salazar stared fixedly at a wall, wondering whether or notto tell everyone that he had a semi-illegal port key on him. "Surely Professor Snape or Remus has a portkey, I mean, Dumbledore wouldn't let them go without giving them one, not with Tom Riddle on the loose…"

"Dumbledore does a lot of stupid things, Potter…"

"Well, yeah, he's only human. Are you trying to say that Snape doesn't have a portkey?"

"…yes."

"Oh."

Draco raised an eyebrow at this. "What, you're not going to go ballistic, claim that Dumbledore is a manipulative old coot, turn dark and become the next Dark Lord?"

Salazar smirked. "No, but I'm flattered you think so highly of me. I mean really, the next Dark Lord? Gosh, you better be careful, that was almost a compliment. What would your fan-club say!" he said, placing a hand on his forehead and pretending to swoon.

Draco did not look amused. "Hmph, don't be so smug about it. Half the Ministry seriously thinks that you're going to become the next Dark Lord."

Salazar sat up straight at this revelation. "What? Why!"

"It's because of Dumbledore's theory about your scar," he sighed. "Apparently, it links the two of you together. It's causing some people to think that you might be a very powerful wizard with an inclination toward the dark."

Salazar cursed softly under his breath. _'Damn that manipulating bastard. He wants me to be completely dependent on him! Either I side completely with him, or he cries wolf on me and gets everyone to think I'm housing Tom's soul!'_

Draco watched Salazar's eyes narrow in fury with a small amount of trepidation. He cleared his throat. "So, um, how are we going to get out of here?"

"Portkey."

"I thought we covered that already!"

Salazar glared at him, and Draco gulped. He really did have a fair imitation of Severus' glare. Draco supposed it had to do with having it directed at him every day during Potion's class.

"We've noted that Snape and Remus didn't have one. No one said anything about me not having one," Salazar said gruffly. Draco was gaping at him in astonishment. "I'm going upstairs to tell the others."

* * *

Remus chuckled, amused, as he watched Severus hurriedly pack his caldron and ingredients away. He was cursing up a storm, and ranting.

"And you!" Severus whirled around to glare at the smirking Remus. "You can't even get off your fat arse and help! You just sit there, chuckling like the imbecilic moron you are! I swear…" and he was off again.

There was a knock at the door, and Salazar poked his head in. Severus didn't stop storming around the room ranting and cursing.

Salazar glanced at Severus incredulously. "Um, I think I have a way of getting out of here before the aurors start storming the houses," he said staring at the little spot over Remus' right ear. It really was a very interesting spot…Salazar figured that it could be blood. Or maybe spaghetti…

"Oh, and how is that?" Severus demanded, harshly, looking up from his shrunk luggage.

"I, um, have a portkey…"

"You have a portkey? Why?" Remus asked, staring at Salazar oddly.

"Is it legal?" Severus asked sharply, turning around and looking at Salazar suspiciously

"…I have one because Mr. Weasley gave me one after I got off the Hogwarts Express this summer, and it's legal…I think."

"It's about time that someone took charge of your safety," Severus said gruffly, obviously referring to Dumbledore. He started walking out the room.

"Where are you going?" Remus called.

Severus looked at Remus oddly. "To get Draco of course," he said before he continued on his way to the basement.

* * *

Their arrival in the Burrow was met with two gaping and shocked faces.

Ron choked and coughed, spraying food everywhere. "Bloody hell!" he gasped and fell backwards as his chair tipped back.

Draco sneered, Severus crossed his arms and stared at them like they were all morons, Salazar was trying to wipe the stew off his sneaker, and Remus was grinning and waving at the Weasley family like a maniac.

Maybe Mr. Weasley shouldn't have set the coordinates for his kitchen table. Or perhaps, he shouldn't have allowed an incompetent Ministry employee to set the coordinates.

Mr. Weasley snapped out his shock. "Harry! What happened!" he yelled, pushing back his chair so violently that it tipped over. Ron let out a startled squeak as it crashed to the floor near his ear.

"Well, it's a rather long story…" Salazar began.

"Starting with his birth," Draco cut in.

Ron hauled himself to his feet. "Shut up, Malfoy," he spat.

"Only if you do so first," Draco taunted, sounding like a two year old. Salazar glared at the two, reached over and cuffed Draco on the head. Draco yelped.

"As I was saying," Salazar continued as if nothing had happened, "Voldemort decided to drop in to say hi, destroy some of our very odd, new neighbors, a house and a portion of the street. Then the aurors came to crash the party, and we had to escape before the questioning started."

Mr. Weasley was bewildered. "Why did you run?"

"Because that would mean that we knew about the Dark Lord before hand and didn't tell anyone, and that would also mean that we were the ones to kidnap Mr. Potter," Severus explained blandly. It was almost as if he were talking about the weather, although cloud formations usually didn't try to kill people.

"That's right!" Ron said, glaring. "You kidnapped Harry without his permission!"

"Quite on the contrary, Potter came happily and willfully with us," Draco objected.

"Yeah! Well that's because…" Ron didn't get to finish because Salazar cuffed him hard on the head.

Ron gaped at him as Salazar pulled out a chair say down in it and told him to shut up. Draco smirked at Ron and also pulled out a chair.

"Shh, Weasley," he hissed with a smirk, "the grown ups are speaking." He then proceeded to stare at the conversing adults like they were a most fascinating sort of insect.

Ron growled in annoyance.

A/N: I've been meaning to post this chapter for the longest period of time, actually, it could've been up on Sunday, but I've been waiting for my beta to beta it. I'm sorry, if I was really good at grammar, I would've done it on my own. As it is, I did beta it on my own, so I know there'll be grammar mistakes…

Reviews:

Mozes: Wow. I'm honored, I really am. Completely floored, honestly. I read you review a few days after I finished this chapter, and I have it in my binder. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. As for the war, I felt that we needed to retaliate in some way, but war was a bit extreme. I will be patriotic and support the soldiers, but I was against the war (I think it's a bit too late to be against the war now). I hope that you and the rest of your troops get some time away to spend with their families. Oh, and have a virtual box of cookies.

andy-may: Ah, it's alright. I forgive you…here, have a cookie. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you enjoy this one as well.

like whoa: I've never seen my name either, which is probably my reason for trying to mention everyone's names. But hey, I'm not being paid to analyze my reasons, so I'm not going to start. Well, actually, they were based off of me and a friend. Granted, it was a more exaggerated version of how we deal with stuff. The hummer refers to the truck, the Hummer. A kid was screaming that he saw one, and Draco didn't know what a Hummer was.

SunStar Kitsune: I have to agree, I am weird when I'm feeling anti-social. Oh, and I'm planning on dying sometime in the next chapter.

NephyRiddle: Er, sorry, I wasn't able to update soon. Don't kill me! Here, have a cookie!

Nic'sim87: Yes, sadly the antics that go on in that neighborhood is almost as bad as what goes on in our school…ex: Someone's stuck a shoe-lace in an outlet. Said person realizes that nothing is happing, and dares another to lick it.

Ambrosius Emrys: I have to agree

Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne: Thanks. The poll was to decide if Salazar and Draco should be a couple. And I'm glad you enjoyed the twist. I love making things twisted. I don't know why. I guess it's a hobby.

Lyfe.exe: Well, I'm thinking of leaning in that direction too.

dark-artemis89: Well, it your trying to give up the word 'anyways', I'll have to try to give up my little '…' things. Draco was trying to deny that Riddle is really Voldie, because that would mean the Dark Lord is back, and that's just something people like to deny.

At any rate, you have no idea how flattered I am to have this story be compared to Abandon and Reclaim. I LOVE those stories, and they're so well written, I could never write like that…anyway, thanks, and I hope you like this chapter.

Inu-Angel Z: I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I'm happy to reply. At any rate, I'm leaning more toward a friendship between Salazar and Draco. I'm thinking that having one would take too much effort to write. .;; I'm getting lazy.

SlytherinSnake-Goddess: Oh, very soon. Well, at least in this school year.

To everyone else who read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	16. The Burrow

Disclaimer: I don't own HP 

Chapter Sixteen, Year Two: The Burrow

Draco blinked as the very vibrant orange assaulted his poor eyes. Salazar didn't fare any better.

Ron scowled. He didn't want to go to school with Draco and Snape, much less house the two. He supposed it could be worse though, Snape could be in his room too.

Draco pulled out his wand and cast a charm under his breath. Ron, absorbed in thought, didn't notice as the walls turned black. Draco smirked at his cleverness. Black went with everything, and the fact that black wasn't a blinding color made the entire room easier on the eyes. Salazar had to agree that it was an improvement, even if it did make the room look tiger themed.

* * *

The garden was fairly quiet, nature going about its normal, everyday activities. There was a loud crack as a door banged open. All the intelligent wild-life fled for their lives. The ones that didn't, well it was a form of Darwinism.

Ron followed Draco out of the house, screaming about dark wizards, the color black and injustice. Salazar was following at a safe distance. If he didn't know that the Weasleys didn't have a television, he would've thought that Ron had been watching too much Gundam Wing (1). If Ron called Hermione a weak woman though, he'd probably be punched.

"CHANGE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!" Ron screamed, grabbing the front of Draco's robes and shaking him.

Draco looked at Ron in disgust, and attempted to pry his fingers off his robes. "Honestly, get a hold of yourself, Weasley," he sneered. Ron's grip tightened, and he jerked his other arm back.

Salazar decided now was time to intervene. He picked up the nearest garden gnome and threw it at the two, then pretended to be examining the garden. It really was an interesting rose bush, such peculiar shade of violet.

Draco screamed like a girl, and Ron threw himself violently backwards. It was comical in the way Paris Hilton's behavior was comical. It made you laugh at how screwed up it was.

"What the hell?" Draco muttered, straightening his robes in much the same way a cat grooms itself after losing its composure.

"For once, I think we agree on something," Ron muttered in reply. "Hey, Harry, what the hell happened? Who threw that gnome?"

"God decided to punish you for your idiocy"

"Only me?"

"Draco too."

"Why are you calling him Draco?" Salazar pondered this for a few moments. Ron was staring at him expectantly the entire time.

"I think I consider him to be a friend," he said, sounding very uncertain.

"Because everyone can decide that their arch-rival is a friend in a few days time," Draco said with a snort.

"What's that suppose to mean Malfoy?" Ron spat, rounding on Malfoy angrily.

"Harry's judgment is completely sound, and if he decides that you could be his friend, then. I don't know. He's certainly not whatever it was that you were implying!" Ron finished, looking frustrated and confused. Salazar and Draco blinked.

"Thank you, Ron. I think." Salazar said slowly. He was slowly slipping into his more Gryffindorish persona. It was maddening.

"What I think I'm trying to say," Ron started slowly, "is that I trust your judgment that Malfoy isn't evil."

Draco clasped his hands in front of him as if he was praying, sniffed a few times, and said in a happy, sobbing tone, "I love you too, you red headed pauper." Salazar had to stifle a chuckle at Ron's indignant glare.

* * *

The day came and went, and the next morning, the entirety of the Weasley family, Salazar, Severus and Draco were sitting around the magically enlarged kitchen table, eating breakfast and reading their Hogwarts' letters. Draco choked and sputtered as he read the booklist.

"Gilderoy Lockhart?" Ron asked in a horrified muted whisper.

"Who's Gilderoy Lockhart?" Salazar asked. Grimaces met his question. Only Mrs. Weasley and Ginny seemed to like the man.

"He's simply the best!" Mrs. Weasley gushed. "You're so lucky to have such an accomplished man teaching you!"

The twins exchanged dark looks, turned to Mr. Weasley, and began gesturing toward the book list. Mr. Weasley himself looked worried. Ginny sat in her seat staring at her Hogwarts' letter. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Salazar cut him off.

"Don't," he warned.

Draco looked at him incredulously. "Don't do what?" he asked, sounding like he honestly didn't know. "Don't ask when we're going to go there?" Ron blinked, looking faintly puzzled. He had expected some financially based insult, just like Salazar. To hear that he was asking a polite question was weird to say the least. They were spared from answering as Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts' prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.

"Morning all, lovely day." He said, to the grimace of Draco, who was not a morning person, and to the cheerful greetings from the rest of his family. Salazar said a quiet 'hello', and Snape grunted into his coffee cup.

He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, grey, feather duster-at least, at least, that was what Salazar thought it was until he saw that it was breathing. Then he began to wonder how it was still alive after being squashed by at least a hundred pounds.

Ron jumped up and yelled "Errol," removed a letter, and placed the squashed, half-dead owl on the draining board.

The letter turned out to be from Hermione, asking if their attempt to rescue Salazar was successful, if Salazar was alright, and asked them if they could meet in Diagon on Wednesday. It certainly settled the matter of the departure time to Diagon Alley.

* * *

Wednesday came, and it seemed that Ron, Draco and Salazar's relationship had improved. Salazar was able to drop the Gryffindor façade around Draco, and he and Draco enjoyed making quips at each other's expense.

Ron and Draco developed a kind of friendly rivalry. It was mainly centered around chess. They sat in front of a board on Tuesday, playing for a few hours. It was nothing but chess, and hearing them talk about it whenever they were in the same room hurt Salazar's head. Chess was a way of thinking that he didn't possess.

Salazar yawned as he sat down to breakfast early Wednesday morning. He didn't understand why Tom announced his presence so early. He must've known that there were those among his Death Eaters that weren't happy with him. He must've known that there were those who would get close to him only to kill him. It was premature, rash and incredibly Gryffindorish. He was startled out of his musings when Mrs. Weasley insisted he eat seconds. Until then, he hadn't even realized that he had eaten at all.

Floo travel was just as dirty and nauseating as it had been when it had been invented in Salazar's time. Luckily, he had spoken Diagon Alley clearly enough that he wasn't transported to Zimbabwe or Atlantis.

The first stop was Gringotts. The group ran into a bit of trouble. It seemed that Mr. Malfoy had barred Draco from using his funds, and the main family vault was off limits to anyone who wasn't of age and/or didn't have the key, so Salazar allowed him to borrow from his.

Ron looked aghast. The first moment he got, he pulled Salazar behind a pillar and leaned forward so they could whisper. "Harry! How do you know he's going to pay you back!"

"Trust me Ron. If Draco's anything, he's proud. Having to borrow money from me is probably a bit insulting, probably even more so since he really needs it. He'll pay me back, his pride won't allow for anything else," Salazar said firmly. Ron didn't look so sure.

* * *

After the group met up with Hermione and her parents, they separated. Mrs. Weasley set the meeting place at Flourish and Blotts. They had a one hour time limit.

Ron and Hermione went off in a separate direction, claiming to have something "really, ultra, incredibly important to do. Trust us Harry." So Draco and Salazar were left to their own devices. After buying all their supplies, Draco told Salazar that he had to go into Knockturn Alley to gather some funds. Salazar did not look convinced.

"Knockturn has a bank?"

Draco looked slightly embarrassed. "Before I left the manor, I grabbed a few of my father's belongings. It's not anything that can't be replaced, but I can sell them for a fair amount of money."

Draco shifted slightly at Salazar's scrutiny. At length, Salazar nodded. "Fine, I have a few errands to run as well."

The two headed toward Knockturn in silence.

"So, what do you have to get?" Draco asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"A family friend has been holding something of value for me."

Draco looked at Salazar with wide, incredulous eyes. "A Potter family friend? In Knockturn!"

Salazar shrugged. "Not a Potter family friend."

"But then."

"Everything will be explained later, Draco." Draco sighed and decided not to push any further.

They continued to walk along, and soon they had entered Knockturn Alley in all its dingy and dilapidated glory. People stopped and openly stared as they saw The-Boy-Who-Lived walking along peacefully, in Knockturn Alley of all places, with Draco Malfoy, the son of the very suspected, high-ranking Death Eater. If all the attention affected them, they didn't show it.

"So, are we going to split up?" Draco asked as they continued to walk along.

Salazar pondered for a moment. If they split up, he would have one less witness to his transactions. On the other hand, that would leave Draco unattended and in danger. Salazar sighed and hoped to God that Draco wouldn't talk to anyone about what was going to happen. "No, security risks." Draco sighed and looked a bit relieved.

"So, where are you planning on going?" Salazar asked after a pause. There were even more people staring as they walked deeper into Knockturn. Some were even following them at a distance. Salazar cursed his poor judgment. He should've brought a cloak.

Before Draco could open his mouth to reply, Salazar whispered, "Is your wand stripped of the underage magic detectors?" Draco nodded.

"By removing them, would you alert anyone? And would anyone notice their absence?"

Draco nodded again. "They only reason I don't have them is because a few years ago, I was attacked by a Death Eater fanatic. My father convinced the Minister to allow my wand to be stripped of the parameters."

Salazar sighed. "Would you mind terribly if we go to my friend first? The staring is making me uneasy, and I'd rather not have to answer questions as to why I'm here." Draco nodded his assent.

* * *

The two stood outside an oily door to a dingy looking apartment. Salazar clapped the knocker.

There were a few minutes of silence as they were observed from a window, and then the bolts were pushed back, and the door was opened. The small crowd of people standing discretely in the shadows melted away.

"Yeah, what do you want?" a middle aged man asked them with a glare.

"Hitler?" Draco asked mouth hanging open. The man and Salazar both looked at him with a glare.

"Do I look like Hitler?" The man asked, irritably.

"Errr, yeah, you do. It's the mustache." With a scowl, he stood up to his full height and glowered down at them.

"I am Walter Grindelwald, boy. Don't you dare assume that tone with me!"

Draco cowered back. "Holy crap, Potter, what are you doing associating with him!"

Draco's comment was echoed by Grindelwald, "And just what is Harry Potter doing on my doorstep?"

"Come now, Walter. Look at the color of my soul, and you'll find me a Slytherin! (2)"

Grindelwald stared at Salazar for a few moments, then his face broke out into a wide smile. He gave a mock bow, and gestured into the apartment, all the while muttering something in, what sounded like, Anglo-Saxon.

Salazar smirked. Draco looked confused.

"What in Merlin's name."

"Please come in," Grindelwald said cutting off Draco, ushering the two in. The parlor was a drab, grey room. There was a harpsichord sitting in one corner, and a large potted plant in another. The drapes were closed. What struck Draco as odd was that there were no pictures, portraits or mirrors. Salazar walked over to the couch and sat down. Draco eyed it all warily and remained standing.

"Potter."

"Don't, Malfoy, please. I'm trying to think," Salazar responded.

Draco crossed his arms and huffed. "Well, fine. Good luck with that one!"

Salazar ignored him. He was trying to decide whether or not to obliviate Draco. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes came to mind, and he decided against it. It was too reckless to do anything like that when Dumbledore was involved. It would just draw more attention.

Grindelwald came back into the room, and glared at Draco, who had been tentatively prodding the plant with the tip of his wand. He moved away cautiously.

"Here's your junk. Now take it before that little ingrate destroys my rhododendrons!"

Draco blinked. "Rhododendrons?"

Salazar laughed nervously at Grindelwald's murderous glare. "I'll just visit some other time, then, Walter. Uh, bye!" That said, Salazar began trying to drag Draco out of the apartment.

"Wait! I want to know what's going on!" Draco yelled, latching onto a door post.

"I'll explain later!" Salazar yelled, and with one final yank, he had Draco out the door.

Grindelwald smiled at the two's antics, and readied the parlor for Tom Riddle's imminent visit.

A/N: Yes, I know, it took me a while to update, but I just wasn't sure what I should write about after the garden scene, then it just kind of hit me while I was reading Chopin's The Awakening. Don't ask me why it happened then, it just did. Oh, yeah. Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukah/Happy Kwanzaa, and here are brownies for the holidays!

1. Salazar is referring to the character Wufei who has a very pronounced sense of justice and believes that women shouldn't be fighting. It's a show that Dudley watches with the volume very loud. I'm not insulting the people who watch GW, I watched it too.

2. Castlevania reference. It's based off of the first encounter between Death and Juste Belmont in Castlevania: The Harmony of Dissonance.

Death: Halt! The color of your soul…you must be a Belmont.

Anon. Review:

kawaii chibi shun: That happened to me a lot. I used to write down the titles to all my favorite fan fictions, and then I would lose the paper. Did an author stop writing a favorite fan fiction or something?

Quote #15 was from Phoenix Song on Adult Fan (AFF) it was HP/DM.

Quote #5: I'm not sure where that one came from. I know it was a SS/HP story though. It was probably from Detention. Just google Snarry.

Quote #10 was from a Gundam Wing crossover with Harry Potter. I think that one was taken down a year or two ago though.

Quote #11: Now I know that one came from a Gundam Wing Harry Potter crossover that was taken down two years ago.

Thank you, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it. Happy Holidays. (Great, now I sound like a card).


	17. Surprises

Disclaimer: I don't own HP 

_**VERY IMPORTANT**_:This chapter was a bit odd for me to write. There are instances where I needed to call Salazar by is alias Harry (or Potter, whichever fit the circumstance) because another character would only feel or thing a certain thing about Harry, but would feel the opposite about Salazar. It's a bit confusing. You'll understand when you read.

Chapter Seventeen, Year Two: Surprises

Salazar felt his left eye twitch. He couldn't understand why people were standing in line, waiting to get an autograph from this waste of space. Lockhart probably put the 'dumb' in 'dumb blonde'.

"Merlin, this is pathetic," Draco sneered loudly. Salazar looked amused, Ron snickered, and Hermione glared disapprovingly at him.

Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Draco Malfoy standing next to Harry Potter, and the two weren't fighting. He stared. Then he jumped to his feet and positively shouted, "It _can't _be Harry Potter! And Draco Malfoy too!" He added Draco like an after thought.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Lockhart dived forward, seized Salazar's arm, and Draco's elbow, and pulled them to the front. The crowd started whispering, no doubt gossiping about how Draco and Salazar weren't at each other's throats yet. Salazar expected to hear news of his and Draco's impending engagement in the Prophet tomorrow.

Draco wanted to crawl under a rock and die, or pull out his wand and avada the photographer. He also wanted to scourgify his hand. Lockhart was actually _touching_ it. He looked over at Salazar. Salazar didn't seem to be faring any better.

"Nice big smile, boys," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "The three of us are worth the front page."

As soon as Lockhart let go of their hands, Draco backed out of his reach. "That's quite fascinating, but we really must finish shopping for school supplies, so…"

Lockhart beamed at everyone. "I was originally going to announce this _after_ I finished signing everyone's copies of Magical Me, but now seems like a good a time as any!" The crowd was staring at Lockhart in obvious anticipation. "I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered, Draco groaned and Salazar hung his head.

--------------------

It was night. For whatever reason, Mrs. Weasley had insisted that everyone go to bed early. So, after much complaining, everyone had trudged upstairs to his or her bedroom.

Ron was out like a light.

Draco crept across the room as silently as possible. He stopped at the foot of Salazar's bed. "Hey, hey, wake up!" he hissed. Salazar rolled over, his hand going under his pillow. He muttered, "Marvel" or something along those lines (1). Draco couldn't really understand him; he blamed it on the drool.

"Potter, Harry, wake up!" he whispered again, poking him intermittently. He sighed, slightly annoyed, and removed his wand from his pocket. "Fine, you forced me to do this." And he raised the wand over his head, prepared to cast a water summoning charm.

Salazar jerked awake, hand coming out from under the pillow with a wand of its own (2). "Petrificus Totalus."

Draco tensed and collapsed to the floor like a plank of wood. Salazar peered over the edge of his bed. "Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry at all. "It's a sort of reflex. I'm allergic to threatening wands."

Draco glared.

"Useful little spell," Salazar said, with a thoughtful tone. "Imagine what could happen if you immersed a petrified person in water. Why, they could drown!"

Draco looked horrified.

Salazar smirked. "Good night, Draco."

Draco was back to glaring again. _That stupid wanker!_ he thought.

----------------

Ron awoke to the smells of bacon, eggs and pancakes. He stretched, yawned and itched his stomach absentmindedly. The holidays were great. No getting up early, and no screeching mum. He glanced over at Draco's bed. When he saw that it was empty, he figured that Draco had already gone down to breakfast, probably to hoard all the good bacon strips to himself (because what does a dragon do but hoard?), and perhaps to put something in the food to make people's hair turn green and silver.

Ron looked over at Salazar's bed. Or, at least where his bed used to be. All there was now was a trunk. Ron gaped, then instinctively looked up. Salazar's bed was floating in midair.

"HARRY!" he yelled in shock.

Salazar jerked awake at the yell. As he did, the bed crashed to the floor. He stared, wide-eyed at a ceiling.

"You were levitating!" Ron said, incredulous.

"How…observant," Salazar remarked, looking a bit shaken.

"Mmmph," uttered something from the floor.

Ron looked over. "Holy crap! Draco! You could've been crushed.

Draco looked at him with a sarcastic expression.

Ron blinked and looked at the door expectantly, expecting to see his mother, or father, or both, rushing into the room, wands at the ready and looking livid. No one came.

"Er, there was a silencing spell cast," Salazar said, tentatively.

Ron blinked, looked at Draco, and decided not to ask.

-----------------

For some reason, unknown to Salazar, there seemed to be a great flurry of activity going on in and outside the Burrow.

He didn't have long to think about that before he was dragged into Ron's room by an irate-looking Draco.

"What the HELL was _that_ last night?" he hissed.

"What was what?" Salazar asked, trying to look innocent.

Draco folded his arms and glared at him, a stance he must have picked up from Severus.

Salazar sighed. "Alright, want to know the truth? I sleep walk." He stared defiantly at Draco.

"Sleep walking, right," Draco said slowly. "I have the feeling that you're just trying to avoid me."

"Avoid you? Whatever for?"

"Don't play stupid with me!" Draco snarled. He thrust a copy of the Daily Prophet in Salazar's face.

Salazar's eyes widened. Under the title, "Dark Wizard Showdown" was a picture of Walter and Tom dueling, the Dark Mark and sitting hanging next a bloody-looking infinity sign. Grindelwald's Mark.

Salazar skimmed through the rest of the article, eyes widening as he read that Walter was dead.

"…was he a friend?"

Silence.

"Would you like to talk?" Draco asked.

Salazar glared. "One of my best friends is DEAD, Malfoy. I don't think I owe you any explanations now!"

"Well, gee! Before you called me a friend too! I thought that's what friends did! You know, mushy crap like comforting them when a friend died!" There was an embarrassed pause. "I mean," Draco said with a slight blush, "if you want to explain to me how you came to know Grindelwald, I wouldn't object."

There was more silence. Draco shifted uncomfortably. He didn't get much sleep last night. Actually, he hadn't gotten much sleep at all since that house blew up. One of the ideas that governed his life was that no one was truly innocent (3), but he didn't think that whatever that family did warranted spontaneous implosion. Or explosion. And for some reason it was bothering him…

"Will you swear an Unbreakable Vow?" Salazar asked.

"That family didn't deserve to implode," Draco said.

More silence. Then, "What?" the two asked simultaneously.

The two stared at each other again. "Er, you go first, P-Harry."

"Are you sure? It sounds like you're going insane," Salazar said uncertainly.

"Bah."

"Okay. Do you swear the Unbreakable Vow?"

Draco blinked slowly. "What was that? I thought you mentioned Unbreakable Vows."

"I did."

"What could be so important?"

"If you swear it, you'll find out."

Draco glared at Salazar. "You know, all I'd have to do is get my hands on Veritaserum and…"

"I'd kill you."

Draco looked shocked. He'd never thought he'd hear those words coming out of Harry's mouth, especially for what seems like a purely selfish reason. And definitely not with the steely truth staining them.

But now Draco was curious as hell, and he could just tell the other knew it.

He took a deep breath. "Yes."

For the first time that day, Salazar smiled. "We'll need a Bonder though."

"I could get Severus to be our Bonder, if I pester him enough," Draco said slowly.

"Only if he'll swear an Unbreakable Vow as well; could you be the Bonder for that?" Salazar asked.

"It wouldn't hurt to ask him I guess."

"Only if he agrees."

--------------------

Severus agreed, eventually. If partly because his godson was annoying the hell out of him, and partly because he was curious. And maybe, just maybe, because he was a bit concerned about Potter's welfare. Or rather, Harry's welfare. It didn't mean he _liked_ the brat. He was just willing to acknowledge that Harry wasn't James and, _no_, that didn't mean he was going to start giving the kid VIP treatment. Something needed to anchor that head to the ground.

Severus pressed his wand-point to their linked hands.

"Will you, Draco, promise not to tell anyone, any creature, anything or record anywhere the information I'm going to tell you about myself and my past life?"

"I will," Draco said, looking a bit bewildered.

Flame linked their hands together. It looked like a perverse form of marriage, with added trial-by-fire.

"And will you promise to continue to hold any such information to yourself until such a time that I tell you that I am ready for the world, or a third party, to know?"

"I will."

A second flaming-chain weaved with the first.

"And…oh damn, I don't have a third clause."

Severus and Draco just stared at Salazar.

"What? That seems to cover everything!"

"Just make something up!"

"Er, okay. And will you promise to…not sell me out to the Dark Lord, otherwise known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort?"

Draco stared at Salazar like he was the stupidest person in the world. "Of course I will you dolt!"

A third link of flame weaved with the others. The braid began to seep into their skin. When it was fully absorbed, it felt like there was molten lava running through their veins until it all gathered at their hearts. Then the heat dissipated.

Salazar turned to Severus. "All right, your turn!" He sounded entirely too cheerful.

----------------

Tom sighed. He came to Grindelwald for answers. His usual, 'do you know this' and 'what's a good solution for this.' But the man was completely unresponsive. He kept evading them. And when asked why, he just said something about Slytherin being back. Slytherin! As if that would be a reason to withhold information. If he was back it should just add incentive to give information!

Tom allowed his head to bang on the desk. It didn't make any sense. People had reported that they had seen Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy enter and leave Grindelwald's home right before he entered. Did that make one of them Salazar Slytherin?

Maybe he should kidnap both of them and run aura tests.

Or maybe he should just ask Severus.

Or maybe he should test them.

A grin slowly spread across Tom's face. Yes, test them. That way, he could find out without getting his hands really, directly dirty, and maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to kill some mudbloods as well. And then he could cast the reincarnation out or society and mold him and…

Tom grinned and Called Lucius.

-----------------

"My name is Harry James Potter, and I'm the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin." Salazar looked around at their slack faces. "Maybe I should rephrase that, because it's not entirely true. I know I'm the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin, and I consider myself to be Salazar Slytherin in the body of Harry Potter." There, that sounded more accurate. "No, scratch that. I AM Salazar Slytherin in Harry Potter's body."

"Stop joking around," Draco said weakly. "You're not Salazar Slytherin. You're too Gryffindor to BE Salazar Slytherin."

Salazar stared at Draco. "That was the point."

"Ye gods. I think I need to sit down."

Severus was watching Salazar with an unreadable look. "What are you planning on doing now?"

"Go to Walter's funeral."

"I meant, what are you going to do about…about everything?"

"I'm going to talk to Tom and see if I can knock any sense into him. I'm eventually going to go and talk to all the pureblood families and try to convince them that inbreeding is just not healthy. I'll show them a picture of Crabbe and Goyle. That ought to convince them. Too much hair, not enough brain."

Severus quirked a sort of hesitant half-grin. Draco stared at him like he was in a daze.

"Oh."

They decided to leave it at that for now.

A/N: I think I updated at a respectable enough time. Yea! Poor Tom, always choosing the hard way. Oh, and no offense was meant by the dumb blonde thing. I wasn't trying to say blondes are dumb. (My mom is blonde) I was trying to say that he put the dumb in the figure of speech. But it just didn't sound as snappy…I should've made that a foot note or something.

1. No, Salazar is not having perverted dreams about Tom. He dreaming about his eventual confrontation with him. Or something, just nothing incestual. No, that's not a word, but it will be used in this instance.

2. I never really explained this. He received from Grindelwald his old wand and various other stuff from his previous life.

3. A Vimes/Discworld reference (I don't own Discworld, or Vimes). Read Guards! Guards! Or read my Discworld quotes in my profile. Which are from Guards! Guards! 

Reviews:

hard: I'm afraid some things are just inter-worldly. No, but seriously, it's because…I don't know.

kawaii chibi shun: Yeah, it from I haven't read it since last year. But there are the R rated chapters, and the NC-17 rated ones, and it's also slash. (Draco/Harry pairing) so I don't know if you'll like it.

Heather: Thank you. I hope you liked the Lockhart scene, and I hope you liked this chapter.

moose22244128: I didn't update soon, but I updated at a respectable date. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd type something more interesting, but my brain is on the fritz, and my wit has been replaced by sheer tiredness, and I need sleep now.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and I hope everyone is getting more sleep than me.


	18. Explanations

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

'…': thinking

Chapter Eighteen, Year Two: Explanations

Salazar yawned. He had sat up for a while, trying to figure out a way that he could possibly attend Walter's funeral, and couldn't think of any that didn't make it seem like he was deranged, or Dark, or both.

"I guess I can just go and let the world screw itself," he muttered.

"What was that Potty, you schizoid?"

"That's none of your business, blond nympho."

Draco gaped at Salazar. He _'humphed'_ crossed his arms, and stuck his nose in the air. "Fine then," he said, "I guess that means that you don't want to know this interesting tidbit about Grindelwald's funeral."

Salazar blinked. "Alright, I'll just check the Prophet then."

Salazar stood up, and was walking across the room to the door, when Draco shot out of his seat and stood between the door and him.

"You are supposed to ask me, 'What is it Draco?' And I'm supposed to say, 'Not until you tell me what's going on here.' And then you…" He broke off as Salazar started to chuckle. Draco crossed his arms again and pouted.

Salazar smirked. "I thought that the second brightest student at Hogwarts would be able to discover by himself at least half the story."

Draco blushed at the compliment. "Well, I know he's a vampire, but that's about it…I was thinking that he was the Childe of a vampire friend of yours or something."

"Close, but no cigar. Walter is my best friend from my previous life."

"Oh, er," Draco sat down on the floor, and stared up at Salazar in shock. "So, uh, that's why he had your wand and stuff."

Salazar nodded.

"Well, then, I'm sorry he died. I mean, I'm not sad that he died or anything, because I didn't know him long enough, but I'm sorry for you and stuff, yeah." Draco was now looking very uncomfortable.

"Well, I think he was pretty lonely. The rest of his family and close friends died off a long time ago. He actually hated the fact that he was immortal, he wanted to be with his family and love."

There was an awkward pause. Salazar sat down too. They were both trying to pretend that the emotional moments didn't happen.

Eventually, Salazar asked, "So, what was that thing with Walter's funeral?"

"Oh, just that he's not having one, that he's being cremated and the ashes scattered around some secret room, and that all his assets are being wired to some unknown wizards account. The whole thing is being kept hush-hush."

"Oh, well that solves my problem then. How do you know what wired means in that context?"

Draco tensed and stared at Salazar with wide eyes. "Well, you see, I mean, they say that knowledge is power, and it seemed like a good idea to learn about Muggles if I needed to fit in, and so I bought books, and was able to get DVDs that I was able to watch on the TV in the Muggles Studies room, and you aren't going to tell this to anyone, are you?"

Salazar sat, his mind trying to catch up with Draco's words. Eventually he said, "Why would I do that? I have nothing against Muggles. And really nothing against you either, yet."

At Draco's incredulous stare, he elaborated, "Well, you haven't really done anything that would cause me to try to kill you or anything, so you really have nothing to worry about." Seeing that Draco apparently still didn't believe him, Salazar continued, "I mean, you swore an Unbreakable Vow, so unless you fraternize with the enemy, you won't have to be silenced."

Draco was still staring at him. "No, that's not…I mean, why don't you hate the Muggles?"

Salazar sighed, it would be a long day.

…………….

Tom rubbed his hands together, looking for all the world like the stereotypical mad scientist with pink eye. One would almost expect it to begin raining for 40 days and 40 nights, and for lightning to strike rods, and for a short man with a bad lisp to be standing next to him.

But of course, Tom was the young Dark Lord, and it didn't do for a Dark Lord to begin mixing trades. That and Igors went out of style in the 70's.

None of that really mattered to Tom at the moment. All he cared about was that he would be gaining all of Salazar Slytherin's possessions. Or at least, all of Slytherin's possessions that Grindelwald had.

Tom could feel a cocky smirk crossing his features. Soon, he'd be even more powerful than the original Voldemort. He could just imagine that power swarming through his veins like bees. Tom paused at that thought, then berated himself for thinking like a Muggle. 'No,' he amended again, 'like a Hufflepuff.'

So Tom corrected that previous thought; the power slithering through his veins, amassing at his wand's point, like a basilisk. Actually, Tom realized, he could practically hear the slithering. He turned around, rather spooked.

There was a snake on the floor. Tom let out a relieved sigh and bent down to pet it. He pulled his hand back, and hastily retreated when he realized that the snake had eerily familiar red eyes. Tom looked up, and cursed. Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the door post with a lazy smirk on his face.

"I've only ever served one Master," Lucius said as the snake struck.

……………

Salazar let out an 'oof' as something large and heavy landed on him. He could feel his eyes widen, and was sure that his mouth was gaping too, but it was warranted in this situation. That and the fact that it was night, so there was no one to witness the indignity.

"Draco?" he whispered. "Draco?"

"What is it Potter? It had better be good, I was just falling asleep."

"Shut up, Draco!"

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, now whispering too.

"There's someone on me."

"What wrong with that?"

Salazar paused for a moment to run that through his head, then felt the urge to kick Draco hard in the genitals.

Fortunately for Draco, the person began to stir. It seemed like his genitals would be spared Salazar's abuse for tonight.

"Hmm, wah?" Tom groaned at the sudden light.

"Shit!" Draco cursed.

"Oh, _bother_!" Salazar snapped.

"Zzzzz." Ron slept like he was dead, completely unaware that there was a young Dark Lord in his room.

As Tom's eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed that he was lying on someone with black hair and who was very short. It was hard to see the majority of the person's features because the light was behind him. Oddly enough it was still blinding.

Tom looked at the source of the light, and saw Draco. His eyes darted between Draco and the other person, realization dawning in his eyes.

"What are you doing? Stun him!" Draco yelped when he saw that Salazar wasn't doing anything.

"Oh yes, because I'm in the position to stun him with my hands being squashed!" Salazar said sarcastically.

"Oh dear, this is an embarrassing position, isn't it?" Tom asked with a hesitant chuckle.

Draco made a choked sound.

"Don't just stand there thinking perverted things, Draco! Stun him!" Salazar yelled.

"But how can I stun him if I can't see him! I can't keep the light and cast a spell!" Draco wailed.

"Look, can we discuss things?" Tom asked.

There was complete silence as things were being thought over. Tom cursed his lack of foresight. He didn't have his wand with him. Or any other weapons for that matter.

"Will you try to kill us, maim us, or do other unsavory things to us, or anyone else?"

"Can I defend myself?"

Salazar and Draco traded looks over Tom's head, unsure whether they could trust him to not curse people out of "self-defense".

"…Why don't we hear your story first, and then decide the defense issue after?" Draco suggested.

"Well, then I can't agree to your first stipulation."

"Can you just get off me?" Salazar muttered.

…………….

They eventually came to an agreement. Tom wouldn't try to harm people, unless it was out of the dictionary's definition of self-defense. Tom agreed to remove himself from Salazar, and also agreed to be questioned under Veritaserum that would be administered by Professor Snape (who would also do the questioning). The questioning would only by about what had transpired to cause him to appear in the Burrow. Questioning on any other subject would be viewed as an attack, and so he would be allowed to kill them.

The document that the four drew up (Severus had been dragged out of his room) succinctly stated all of this.

Ron was, amazingly, still sound asleep. Severus threw up a silencing barrier while Tom took the instructed dose of Veritaserum.

Satisfied with the barrier, Severus turned around to do a preliminary check. "What is your name?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Tom, making a face as though he had just swallowed a mouthful of expired milk.

Severus nodded. "It seems that the potion is working."

"How do we know that's true?" Draco asked Severus, suspicious.

"I don't think the Dark Lord would have admitted his Muggle name in any other circumstance except under the influence of Veritaserum," Severus said, calmly.

Salazar watched the proceedings quietly.

"Why did you appear here?"

"My life was being threatened."

"By whom?"

"Lucius Malfoy and Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Severus blinked. "Do you mean the Dark Lord?"

"Yes."

"Okaaay," Draco said slowly, confusion written all over his face.

Severus thought for a moment. "Do you mean the original Dark Lord, the one who tried to kill Harry Potter?"

"Yes."

"How did he appear?"

"I think he was possessing a snake."

"How did you arrive here?"

"Portkey."

"What did you set the parameters to?"

At this Tom glared at them. "Wizards with magical signatures identical to those born to the Slytherin family."

There was silence, and as the effects of the potion wore off, Tom said, "You have some explaining to do, Harry Potter."

A/N: Heh heh, it's been a while, hasn't it. Don't hurt me!

But honestly, I sat down, and tried to write this about 20 times, and each time I got stuck on what to do about the funeral and will and stuff. And then what to do with Tom. The real bout of inspiration came through a book. Everyone, you all have Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman and Good Omens to thank for the completion of this chapter. So if you two read fan fiction, here's Pocky. . I don't really like this chapter at all though. It just doesn't seem to be well written.

Reviews:

kawaii chibi shun: Thanks! Yeah, unfortunately, that was the only really funny part of that chapter, like there was really one section that was really well written in this one. I think my writing is slipping.


	19. Explanations II

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

Chapter Eighteen, Year Two: Explanations II

Draco sighed and pointedly avoided looking Tom in the eyes. "I don't suppose that it could wait until morning, could it?"

Tom sat down on a chair. "It's morning now, so that excuse won't work."

Salazar sighed in annoyance. "There's really nothing to explain. I'm Salazar Slytherin reborn into the body of Harry Potter, and I don't really mind Muggles."

Tom blinked. "I think I misunderstood that last bit, could you repeat it?" he asked almost hesitantly.

"No, I think you understood."

"No, I think I misunderstood. You couldn't have just said that you don't mind Muggles!"

"But, I did."

Tom was staring straight ahead in shock, Salazar looked resigned, and Severus and Draco decided to leave to give the two a few moments alone.

"But…but…what about the hell that we endured! Muggles can't be trusted! They'll do it again!"

"Which is why the Wizarding community has their Muggle protection laws that prohibit wizards and witches from showing them that the Wizarding Community exists!"

"But they have to be punished!"

"From what happened back then, or for those Muggles at the orphanage did to you?"

There were a few moments of silence. Tom's face looked blank. "I already got my revenge on those at the orphanage, it's the rest that has to be punished."

Salazar was silent for a while. He stared at the same bit of wall, that Tom had been staring at in shock, thinking and pacing. Finally, he came to a halt next to Tom's chair. "You're going to stay here until school starts; then you and I are going to go the Dumbledore. In the mean time, I have someone I want you to meet," he said, staring straight ahead, not looking at his descendant.

Tom looked over at Salazar quizzically. "Why haven't you asked me to swear an Unbreakable Vow or something?"

Salazar turned and stared Tom in the eyes. "Why should I waste my energy on something like that? For all I know I'll have to kill you soon."

There was more silence. Salazar cursed himself for saying something like that. It was true, but he didn't want Tom to be afraid of him. He wanted to show him that not all Muggles are bigoted in this era. He wanted to give Tom a proper upbringing.

"Who do you want me to meet?" Tom finally asked.

"There's a girl I go to school with. Her name's Hermione Granger, and she's a Muggleborn," Salazar said. "If you harm her in any way, shape or form, you will wish my sister had never conceived your side of my family."

Tom shrank away a little from the coldness in his voice.

"In the meantime, you will abide by the same rules in that agreement we had during you r questioning, with an added clause."

"What?" Tom asked, sounding resigned.

"You won't tell anyone who I am. The only name you will refer to me, and call me by, is Harry James Potter. No references will be made to my previous incarnation as Salazar Slytherin. You won't tell anyone that I'm Salazar Slytherin either, or you'll find yourself at the mercy of Voldemort."

"You wouldn't do that," Tom whispered. "You wouldn't hand me over to that and make it stronger!"

"Actually, when a wizard or witch mates with a Muggle with no magical abilities, the offspring produced is weaker magically by 100," Salazar said coldly. "You're half the strength you would have been had your father been a Muggleborn."

Tom looked aghast. "And you're advocating this."

Salazar turned around sharply. "I'm advocating the acceptance of Muggleborns, not interbreeding with Muggles. For Muggles, I'm suggesting tolerance. Nothing more, nothing less."

"We are tolerant!"

"Yeah, the Light is tolerant, the Dark isn't and the neutral ones don't give a shit. That's definitely a profound 'we'."

"You want to remake society," Tom said, still whispering. "You want to make yourself head of the Wizarding community!"

Salazar rolled his eyes at Tom's dramatics. "What I want," he snapped, "is for you to stop killing people for no reason. I'm not suggesting that the Wizarding community interbreed with Muggles, but I want this senseless killing to stop!" _"They're alright!" Salazar silently screamed in his head. "Muggleborns and Muggles are alright; they're not all bigoted idiots!"_

"You killed Muggles and Muggleborns, why should I stop?" Tom asked defiantly.

"My time is different from your time. In my time, it was either kill them, or wait until they got you. It's a little thing called survival."

Tom was silent for a while at this. "Alright," he said at length, "I'll meet this Hermione Granger person. But what happens if I'm still not convinced that I shouldn't kill them?"

"Then we are going to spend a few days completely immersed in Muggle culture."

Ron snorted and rolled over.

………..

Salazar woke bright and early to an empty room. He showered, dressed, went downstairs and promptly had a heart attack. Several people jumped up from behind various pieces of furniture and shouted 'surprise' at the top of their lungs. Salazar's eyes moved from the people to the banner proclaiming 'Happy Birthday Harry!' and stood still, gaping.

Ron grinned and slung an arm around Salazar's shoulders. "Happy Birthday, mate!" he said cheerfully.

"Was this what you and Hermione meant when you said you had something really important to do in Diagon?" Salazar asked faintly.

"Yes, the two of us asked the Weasleys if they minded holding your birthday party, and they said 'no', so all we had to do was get the supplies and gifts," Hermione said, popping up to the other side of Salazar and smiling.

"Oh, thanks, but really, you didn't have to," Salazar said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable being at the center of attention.

"Oh, nonsense, Harry, it's your birthday!" Mrs. Weasley gushed.

"And what a great way to end the holidays," the twins chorused.

"Er, well, I guess," Salazar said hesitantly. His eyes roamed over the crowd of people and noticed two of them were missing. "Hey, where's Tom and Draco?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. "They were in the garden last I checked." Hermione said softly.

"Is Riddle your friend?" Ron asked sharply.

"Uh, I guess," Salazar said uncertainly.

"Then tell him not to call Hermione a mudblood again," Ron snapped.

Salazar's blood ran cold. "Did he know who she was?"

"He heard me talking to Mr. Weasley about electricity and it's uses in dentistry," said Hermione softly, "and he just gave me a cool look and muttered 'mudblood'."

Salazar let out a sigh of frustration. "I told him I wanted him to meet you," Salazar told Hermione. Ron stared at him in shock.

"Why?" Ron asked angrily.

"Tom's a half-blood that was constantly belittled for it. It's a kind of weird psychological issue. He's constantly augmenting his natural assets and belittling others because of his "status"," Salazar said, also angry.

Hermione looked sympathetic. "So, you thought that by meeting me, he might grow out of it?" she asked quietly.

Salazar nodded.

"I'm afraid that he would need psychological help with that."

"I know that!" Salazar said irritably. "It's just that the two of you have so much in common. You're both smart, hungry for knowledge, and both of you in your different ways are trying to prove that genetics doesn't matter!"

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other again.

"Okay, I understand that the two of us have certain similarities," Hermione admitted wearily, "but what would he gain from the two of us talking?"

"Maybe some respect for Muggles, or at least Muggleborns. That'd be a step in the right direction."

Hermione was quiet for a while, thinking. Salazar watched her anxiously. Ron just looked worried.

"Alright," she said at length, "I'll do it. What is he interested in?"

"The Dark Arts and Lord Voldemort," Salazar answered promptly.

Hermione paled and Ron tensed.

"No, he's interested in Voldemort as a person, not as in Death-Eater-in-training way! I mean like…"

"We get it," Ron said weakly. "He's interested in the Dark Lord 'cause he's a bloke he can understand and relate with. That's…safer, yeah."

A/N: Yea! I updated at a reasonable time!

Serenity1910: Thank you!


	20. Arrival

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Dumbledore is OOC.

_**ITALY WON! **_

Chapter Twenty, Year Two: Arrival

The last month before school found Ron and Hermione extremely wary of Tom. Tom, to his credit, didn't attempt to try to circumvent any of the clauses on the oath that he took. A Voldemort-possessed snake was still out there, still ready and waiting to try to possess him.

That month passed in relative harmony except for the rather exciting escapade to Diagon Alley so Tom could get his school things and a slightly stilted debate on whether Dumbledore should be alerted to Tom's presence at the Burrow. Salazar still maintained that Dumbledore already knew. Severus decided to alert him just in case.

In fact, the month was so peaceful that Ron soon grew accustomed to asking a future Dark Lord to help him with his homework and Ginny was seen blushing whenever she glanced at him. So, it seemed came as a shock when the front of the Daily Prophet on August 31st proclaimed a rise in Death Eater activities. The majority of the table seemed grim. The rest glanced worriedly over at Tom, and Tom looked at his toast like it was going to avada him.

Salazar stood up abruptly, much to the surprise of the rest of the table. Salazar said to the table in a shaky voice, "I…I think I have to contact Dumbledore right now. Please excuse me, I just-"

"I'll come too," Tom interjected hastily earning a few suspicious glances.

The walk up to Ron's bedroom was spent in silence with Salazar looked worried and Tom trying not to have a heart attack or hyperventilate.

Once they entered the bedroom, Tom immediately sunk onto his bed. "He's after me; I know he's after me. His Death Eaters are regrouping and they're going to do things to my body…" he trailed off looking down at his hands.

Salazar sighed. He didn't understand where his descendant got his dramatics from, and he didn't care. All that he wanted was for Tom to at least be dramatic in a positive way.

He pulled up a chair and sat in front of Tom. "Tom, look at me."

There was no response. "Are your hands named Harry? Hello!"

Silence.

Salazar took a deep breath and prepared himself for a violent outburst. "Oi! Mudblood!"

Tom stiffened and his eyes shot up from looking at his hands to Salazar. The next moment found Tom clutching his wrists as his attempt at strangling Salazar resulted in pain.

Salazar stood up. "Good, now that you're finished with your self-pity, maybe we can move onto more constructive things."

Tom got up slowly, rubbing his wrists and glaring. "I'm not a mudblood. Don't call me that!"

"Fine! Then quit sulking and pitying yourself. If you want to be treated like a Slytherin, then start acting like one!"

Tom took a deep breath and released it. After a moment he looked over at Salazar. "Alright, let's fix this."

Salazar smiled.

…….

The Weasley family seemed to neither be surprised when Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace later that day, nor did they seem surprised when he asked them to take Floo over to Hogwarts immediately.

Hermione seemed to be the only one surprised at this, and mentioned that Hogwart's: A History never mentioned the castle being connected to the Floo system. Salazar, though he didn't look it, was surprised as well. The Floo network was after his time.

They arrived in a chamber just off of the Great Hall. A large, richly embroidered, cloth-covered object was standing in the middle of the room on a dais. Blue light was being admitted from under the cloth.

While the Weasley family was sorting themselves out, and Draco and Tom were conversing in low voices over a piece of paper, Salazar cautiously approached the odd object.

"Ah, I see you've found the Triwizard Cup." Dumbledore said.

Salazar jumped and turned around, a hand over his heart. "I didn't see you, sir."

"I didn't mean to startle you," Dumbledore said. "Lemon drop?"

"Er, no thank you."

"Well then, all the more for me!" he exclaimed and happily reached into his container of lemon drops.

"Albus!" Mrs. Weasley called.

Dumbledore and Salazar looked over to see the Weasley family plus Draco and Tom walking toward them.

"Ah, hello Molly, lemon drop?" he asked, holding out a tin.

"Albus, what's going on? I understand the children being summoned here, but why Arthur and me?"

Dumbledore gazed solemnly at her. "That is a conversation for a later time. However, it is late, and no doubt you'll scold me if the children don't get adequate sleep."

Mrs. Weasley blushed. "I…I wouldn't…"

"So, let's see. The Ravenclaw Head Boy and Girl's chambers should be alright, so Molly, you and Arthur can sleep there. The Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff dorms are rather waterlogged at the moment. The Slytherin dorms are the only ones habitable at the moment courtesy of the Bloody Baron, so you youngsters can stay there."

Ron groaned and Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.

"Since I'm sure you can navigate Hogwarts well, and since I have a rather urgent message from Fudge to respond to, I'll leave the rest up to you."

Salazar was staring at the Headmaster's departing back hard. Tom was also looking at the Headmaster with a frown.

Draco sighed and shook his head and Ron just scowled.

……

Ron frowned the moment he set foot in the Slytherin dorms. "Is it always this cold?"

Draco frowned. "Cold? What are you talking about? It's not cold."

"No, not temperature wise; I meant…I meant…" Ron trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

Salazar looked around. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several high-backed chairs were scattered around the room. There were also a few black couches and table scattered around the room too.

"I think what Ronald means is cheerful or something along those lines," Percy said.

"I always thought that the Slytherin dorms were a little wider, more circular with a higher ceiling and large arched windows with a view of the grounds," Salazar interjected.

There was a moment of silence. A few people were looking at him oddly.

"I read about the original architectural design of the Slytherin dorms," Salazar said, looking around the room.

"Wow Potter, didn't know your read!" Draco exclaimed.

"Harry, why were you looking up the Slytherin floor plan?" Hermione asked.

Salazar grinned sheepishly at her. "Well, you wouldn't stop talking badgering me about reading Hogwarts: A History, so I wanted to see if I could find it in the library. They didn't have that at the moment, but they did have the original designs for Hogwarts."

"You have to show me!" Hermione exclaimed. She looked like she was about to rush to the library immediately, with Salazar in tow, to look for the book at 11 at night.

Draco made a noise of impatience. "I don't really care about you lot of Gryffindors," he began, "and frankly, the thought of you defiling the sanctity of the Slytherin dorms makes my skin crawl, however, sleep is important."

"You're worried about us Malfoy?" Fred asked.

"No, I'm worried that your mother will clobber me with a caldron if she saw you looking like zombies tomorrow morning."

Fred and George smirked at each other.

Draco sighed. "Right staircase leads the girls' dorms. Left leads to the boys' dorm."

Salazar walked in to find his trunk already at the foot of the bed. He quickly changed into his pajamas, crawled into bed and was out like a light.

A/N: Yes, it's late. Very late. But I think I started this chapter eight times, and each time I was halfway finished with it I scraped it. Dumbledore is horribly OOC, but, unfortunately, less OOC than how he was the other eight or so times. God it's pathetic. Anyway, I'm anxious to at least finish Year Two before the second book, because I think I know who one of the Horcruxes is. :evil grin:

Reviews:

Serenity1910: Sorry, no meeting between Hermione and Tom. Tom wasn't shocked that Harry is the reincarnation of Salazar because he had a suspicion that either he or Draco was Salazar's reincarnation. However, because the whole purity of blood thing is part of Salazar's legacy, Tom's rather more shocked that Sal doesn't want it to continue than Sal being reborn in Harry's body.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this.


	21. Voldemort Redux

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

Chapter Twenty One, Year Two: Voldemort Redux

The next day found Salazar, Draco and Tom sitting in the Slytherin common room. They were the only ones there, the rest out on the Quidditch pitch. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were meeting with the Headmaster, and then going home.

Draco looked at Salazar and Tom. "Does the Chamber of Secrets really exist?"

Tom looked over at Salazar with a slightly guilty expression on his face. Salazar sighed. "Yes, the Chamber is real. I originally built it as a safe haven for the school in case Muggles ever invaded or something like that."

Draco bit his lip. "So, it wasn't to purify the school or anything like that?"

Salazar looked at Draco, horrified. "Good heavens, no! Who said that?"

"Hogwarts, A History," Tom and Draco said simultaneously.

Salazar groaned and covered his eyes with a hand.

"So," Draco continued eagerly, "if it was just to keep the students safe, wouldn't it be in out best interests to find it?"

Tom coughed lightly into his hand. Draco looked at him, suspicious.

"You don't want to go there," Tom said slowly. "The book says that there is a monster in there. The book happens to be right."

Draco looked absolutely incredulous. He leaned forward in his chair and tried to reason with them. "Tom is the Heir of Slytherin; Harry is the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin. Personally, I think that we're over qualified to handle the beast."

Tom looked over at Salazar with a twitchy expression on his face. Salazar had his face completely covered with both hands like he was trying to block out the situation. Draco was looking at both of them with impatience.

"Look," Draco began, but was cut off by Salazar.

"No, you look here," Salazar snapped. "You may think that it's all well and good to be going around opening forbidden chambers like they're cans of sardines, but I for one don't." He took both hands off his face to glare at Draco. "There's too much bad history and too much blood spilt because of that thing. Tom killed people with the basilisk in the Chamber, and opening it would just bring the past rushing back."

"But I think it's still a good idea to make sure that the place is still defensible. Death Eater activity is increasing. We need to have a secret fortress!"

"Do you want me to get Kissed? I know I don't, but opening that Chamber will get my soul sucked out of me," Tom stated matter-of-factly with a glare.

"But that's all in the past," Draco argued. "Dumbledore's forgiven you, I'm sure that he'd…"

"What makes you think Dumbledore's forgiven him?" Salazar asked quietly.

Draco looked at Salazar oddly. "Well, he did invite him into the school."

"Ever heard the maxim, 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer'?" Tom asked dryly.

Draco scowled. "Of course I have, but I still maintain…"

"Since Tom knows about the Chamber, what makes you think that Voldemort wouldn't?" Salazar asked.

Draco fell silent.

Salazar nodded in satisfaction. "I thought so. And before you ask, the Chamber is very well warded. I made sure of that before I died. Now, let's get some lunch, I'm starving"  
……..

To the surprise of the majority of the arriving students, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and the entirety of the Weasley children were already there. Most assumed that Dumbledore was being a bit cautious about the increase in Death Eater activity, and that Draco was there to insinuate himself into the good graces of the Golden Trio and then use that position to spy for the Death Eaters.

Needless to say, Salazar felt a bit put off by all the stares. He quite envied Tom right now; he was in that chamber just off the Great Hall.

The Sorting proceeded quite normally. Salazar was interested. He hadn't seen a Sorting in over 1000 years besides his own, and then he'd been preoccupied.

It was with a great amount of whispering that Dumbledore introduced a new student, Marvolo Potter, a distant relative of Harry Potter's who would be joining Hogwarts for his Sixth year because his parents were worried about the increased Death Eater attacks, and also because they wanted their son to experience school life. Dumbledore said that he had been Sorted into Gryffindor when he had arrived yesterday.

Tom's face looked like a thundercloud.

And then, Dumbledore made another announcement, and it was with a horrifying, sinking feeling that Salazar knew that Lockhart hadn't been bluffing when he said that he was going to teach Defense at Hogwarts. Up until that point, Salazar had been hoping against hope that Lockhart wouldn't really be teaching them. Hope can be evil.

…….

In a foggy graveyard, at night, three figures could be seen. Two were tied to headstones. Another was kneeling in front of a caldron, holding his stump of an arm. The caldron was bubbling red, and suddenly a tall snake-like and skeletal man appeared.

"My robe, Wormtail," it drawled.

Wormtail whimpered and handed the newly reborn Dark Lord his robe and wand. Soon, other figures in black robes and masks made their appearance.

By the end of the night, Alice and Frank Longbottom were dead.

High in a tower at Hogwarts, two boys woke with a start.

…..

Early in the morning, at around 3AM, two black haired boys raced toward Dumbledore's office. Before they could reach the gargoyle, they ran straight into Severus' back, bowling him over.

The two jumped to their feet, and began to apologize profusely, until they realized that Severus was still lying on the floor, and he was twitching uncontrollably.

Salazar cursed, and Tom transfigured his robe into a stretcher. Salazar levitated Severus onto the stretcher, and the two hurried to the Infirmary. The door was, surprisingly, unlocked.

Tom levitated Severus onto one of the beds, while Salazar went to fetch Madam Pomfrey. When he knocked on her office door several times, there was no answer.

He went back to the main chamber of the hospital wing, and found that Tom had already left. With another curse, he swore that he would kill Tom if he wasn't getting the nurse, and then turned to look at the problem he was ill equipped to deal with.

Tom had, in fact, gone down to the Severus' quarters, figuring that a Potions Master and Death Eater spy would definitely have a potion to help with the after effects of prolonged exposure to Cruciatus. He wasn't surprised that Salazar didn't seem to recognize what caused the twitching. The curse was invented after his time, and Tom supposed that Salazar was going to learn about it, after he learned about everything else that he had been dead for.

Tom muttered 'open up' in parseltongue, thankful that all of the rooms had a parseltongue override command, and quickly found the potion behind a vial of Veritaserum. He raced back to the Infirmary, threw open the door, and almost ran headlong into Professor Dumbledore. He quickly handed the potion to the stressed-looking mediwitch, and stepped back.

The results were almost instantaneous. The twitching stopped, and before Severus could utter a word to anyone, Madame Pomfrey poured a sleeping potion down Severus' throat.

Dumbledore ushered them out of the hospital wing, and lead them back to his office. Once they were seated, he gave both of them very serious looks over the top of his glasses. "I'm afraid that Lord Voldemort has returned to life again."

A/N: Yea! Quick update. I think I may be rushing things. Or maybe I'm not. There are an awful lot of things that are going to happen, I think. It's not going to be as long as the book, but the chapters are going to alternate between rather more exciting ones like this one, and boring ones to set the stage for something.

Personally, I think this is one of my better chapters.

Also, I just noticed that it's Hogwarts, A History not Hogwarts: A History. Sorry.

And I made Tom be Harry's distant relative because they do look a like and also because I appreciate irony. Dumbledore doesn't know how closely related they are.

Oh, and Draco is OOC, but bear with it and chalk it up to a bit of naivety. After all, good guys aren't supposed to think like Slytherins. Dry humor really doesn't translate well onto paper...


	22. Worst Day

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

Chapter Twenty Two, Year Two: Worst Day

"But then, I hazard that you already know that," Dumbledore concluded.

Tom looked at Salazar in shock, wondering how Dumbledore knew that they already knew. Salazar shrugged as if to say, 'it's Dumbledore'.

"Yes, sir. We were on our way to see you when we ran into Professor Snape. Then we got a little sidetracked…" Salazar trailed off. "What exactly happened to Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore sighed. "He was hit with the Cruciatus curse. A dark torture spell."

Salazar blinked. He hadn't heard of that when he was alive. It was a scary concept that someone could just take out a wand and torture you. In his time people needed to make an effort.

"Sir, how did you know that we knew?" Tom asked.

Dumbledore stared at Tom. Tom stared back; he had gotten plenty of practice staring down the cats in the orphanage. Dumbledore eventually looked away. Salazar watched all of this with narrowed eyes.

"Tom won't help Voldemort," Salazar stated, earning wide-eyed looks from Tom and Dumbledore. "Voldemort tried to possess him, I doubt Tom will try to help him."

"Harry," Dumbledore said, sounding tired, "I don't blame you for trusting Tom. In fact, I'd be surprised if you didn't. Trust is a great thing, and being able to trust is even greater, but Tom can be very persuasive when he wants to be…" he trailed off staring rather pointedly at Salazar.

"I don't take kindly to people who try to choose my friends, nor do I take kindly to people who only tell half-truths," Salazar said coldly. "I'm sure you have a reason why I shouldn't trust Tom, but manipulation certainly isn't the reason."

Dumbledore tried to look Salazar in the eyes, but Salazar stared fixedly at a spot on Dumbledore's desk. Eventually, Dumbledore said, "I am worried that Voldemort can possess Tom through a bond they share. That would place the school in danger and also you, Harry."

"Isn't there a way to dissolve the bond then?" Tom promptly asked.

"…No, it acts like Harry's curse scar, except that the bond you share with Voldemort is completely one-sided. The only thing you can do to prevent Voldemort from seeing out of your head is to learn Legilimancy."

Salazar perked up. "Then, what about me? If my scar with Voldemort links me to him similarly to the way Tom's works, shouldn't I take Legilimancy too?"

Dumbledore stared hard at Salazar, who stared at Dumbledore's robes. The orange rabbits hopping around on the lime-green grass were making him vaguely ill.

Eventually, Dumbledore agreed. The two were able to totter back to Gryffindor Tower and collapsed on their beds. It was 4AM.

……

Salazar didn't understand why they still had to go to their morning classes. They had stayed up for half the night, first taking care of Severus, and then debating with the Headmaster. The least they could do was to sleep late.

It didn't help matters that Ron kept complaining throughout breakfast that Scabbers was gone, and that Draco made a bit of a ruckus when he insisted on sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"They're all hostile toward me," Draco said, gesturing toward the Slytherin table. The Slytherins glared at Tom, Salazar and Draco when they looked over. "They seem to think that having one's mother murdered in an attempt to bring back the Dark Lord should bring pride to the family. They don't seem to think that I should've gotten angry and tried to stop the ritual." He stared at Tom.

Tom shifted a bit in his seat.

"Guys, I don't think this is the proper time to atart having this conversation," Salazar said, sounding slightly stressed. He had been constantly looking around the Gryffindor table, making sure no one was watching this exchange, and generally looking quite shifty. People were beginning to look at him oddly.

"No one…noticed did they?" Draco asked.

"No one noticed what?" Hermione asked, closing Voyages With Vampires with a snap.

Before anyone could answer that question, McGonagall came along, handing out schedules. Salazar was relieved until he saw the glare that she sent Tom.

……

It was officially the worst day of Salazar's life. First, there was the problem that he didn't get a decent night's sleep. Then, it seemed that he was being stalked by both Colin Creevey and Lockhart. And then, he had to have class with the man.

What added insult to injury was that the Defense classroom used to be his classroom when Salazar had been teaching at Hogwarts. The adjoining office and living quarters had been his too.

And when the moron let loose the Cornish pixies, who began to destroy the room, he wanted to clobber the man or maybe hit him with that Cruciatus curse he had learned about during a free period.

So, it was with the idea that he could relax and talk to Basle, his basilisk, (1) and be able to avoid Creevey until dinner that he made his way to the Chamber of Secrets.

When he arrived in the chamber, he found that various parts of the ceiling had crumbled. There was luminous lichen growing in places, rat skeletons everywhere, and it was very wet. Salazar scowled. Obviously something had happened to his drainage system.

And then he casually looked toward the front of the chamber and nearly had a heart attack. Some moronic descendant of his had carved, or had someone carve, the face of Salazar Slytherin into marble. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been modeled after one of his older portraits.

He wished that the spell to give portraits personality had been invented in his time. Then he could've screamed that this carving was not a good idea.

Salazar sighed and wondered where little Basle was. He needed a cuddle.

A/N: Another quick update. Or it was supposed to be. I actually had the chapter finished two weeks ago, but sinceI didn't have my laptop in Rochester...anyway,nothing really happened in this chapter. Well, something happened, I'm just not sure what though….

Just to clear something up, Salazar is opposed to Draco going into the Chamber because then it would be used more publicly, and Dumbledore would have access to it and stuff. This way, it's more private, and no one gets hurt.

1. Basle: Traditional British English for Basel, which is the third largest city in Switzerland. The basilisk is its guardian creature. And also the town that James Sprenger was born in. A direct quote from the Malleus Maleficarum 1948 version states that, "…in which the Pontiff, lamenting the power and prevalence of the witch organization, delegates Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger as inquisitors of these pravities…" So, more irony.

Review:

Toki Mirage: I could go several possible ways, and I haven't made my mind up yet. Actually, I think I might've...whatever. Severus is one of my favorite characters, but it's so fun to torture him. .


	23. Parselmouth

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. 

Chapter Twenty Three, Year Two: Parselmouth

Salazar left the Chamber a bit preoccupied, but no longer as stressed and angry. He had even been a bit jumpy. At one point he thought he saw red eyes in the darkness, but it was just a trick of the light.

He grinned as he looked down at the small magical viper curled around his arm. Apparently, one of his descendants had raised another basilisk, the Ministry found out, and he was forced to stash it here. Thus, Basle and the other basilisk mated and started a sort of colony. First generation basilisks needed to be hatched from an egg placed under a toad. Later generations are born alive, like most non-magical vipers, and with no toad involved.

The small snake, looked up at Salazar sleepily. "So warm," it hissed.

"Do you have a name?" Salazar asked.

The snake gave him an odd look.

"Er, then how about…Jormungand(1)? No, too dramatic…" Salazar looked around, and continued walking, trying to remember various snake related myths.

When Salazar realized that he was seriously considering naming the little snake Leviathan, he changed gears from mythology and religion to literature. He eventually settled on Crowley(2), and told the snake this who just gave the approximation of a shrug and went back to dozing.

Salazar smiled down at the small serpent, and was nearly run over by Tom.

"Do you think Draco would mind if I slept in the Slytherin common room? The Gryffindor dorms are just too, too…" Tom groped around for a reasonable excuse, "they're too red. The color schematics are terrible."

"Tom, have you ever had to wait through something horrendous before the plan starts to come together?" Salazar asked, putting an arm around Tom's shoulders and walking him back toward the Tower.

"Yes," Tom said slowly.

"Think of your stay like that."

They continued walking toward Gryffindor Tower in a companionable silence. Suddenly, Tom stopped.

"Why didn't you say that if I didn't stay there I'd end up dead?" Tom asked.

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? You're too melodramatic for that statement to make an impact. Come on, people are probably worrying," he said, giving Tom a little push forward.

Tom frowned. "I am not melodramatic."

Salazar just snorted.

……….

Salazar had been right when he said that people would be worrying. All around the Common Room, people had a look of relief on their faces.

Tom rolled his eyes and stalked up to the sixth year boys' dorm. Salazar sighed and went up to his own dorm.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him there. Hermione looked rather like Ms. Weasley.

"Harry, where were you?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips. "We were all so worried. Don't you realize how dangerous it is to go wandering around after dark with Voldemort back?" Ron nodded his head in agreement.

Salazar shook his head, trying to think up a plausible excuse. "Sorry, I just needed to get out. This whole thing is nerve-racking." Which just so happened to be true.

Hermione's face softened marginally. "Oh Harry, I'm sure it is, but that doesn't give you an excuse to not tell anyone!"

"Yeah mate, I think Lockhart's stalking you, and who knows what that nutcase will do," Ron said mock-seriously.

Salazar grinned, and Hermione gave Ron a severe look.

"But you will tell us next time, right?" Ron asked completely serious this time.

"…Sure."

"Good, that's all we ask," Hermione said approvingly. "Oh, and here's my copy of Hogwarts, A History."

"Thanks," said Salazar.

Hermione nodded. "And Harry, if you go wandering off like that again, that's the last time you'll be allowed to use my books," she said as she left.

Salazar walked over to his bed, placed the book on the night stand, then took off his robes. As he was opening his trunk, he heard Ron's exclamation behind him.

"What?" he asked.

"Where did you get that snake?" Ron asked, pointing to Crowley wrapped around his forearm.

Salazar looked furtively around the room to see if there was anyone else there, and also to look for possible escape routes. There were none of either category.

"Er, well, I kind of found him on the steps of Hogwarts and…"

"How come you haven't been bitten?"

"I talked to it and…"

"YOU TALKED TO IT?"

"Yes, and stop interrupting me!"

"Harry, do you know what this means?" Ron asked wearily, ignoring Salazar's command.

"…That I have a pet?"

"No! Well, yes, but besides that…you…you're a Parselmouth!"

"I'm a what?" said Salazar, looking innocent and quizzical.

"A Parselmouth! You can talk to snakes!"

"Oh, I know, but I'm really glad to finally know the term…anyway, I'm sure there are lots of people who can do it," Salazar said sounding blissfully unaware of how shocked Ron was.

"Oh, no they can't," said Ron. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad."

"Why?" asked Salazar, now sounding a bit angry. "It's like speaking Spanish. Spanish isn't bad!"

Ron twitched. "I'm not saying it's evil! I'm saying the implications are evil!" he said, exasperated. "Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth! That's why the Slytherin crest is a snake! People will think you're related to him or something!"

"But I'm not," said Salazar, now sounding innocent and confused, "so what's the problem?"

Ron sighed. "People just don't see it that way. They can be a bit stupid sometimes. They'll probably think you're in league with Voldemort."

Salazar blinked twice rapidly. "But I'm not."

"_I_ know you're not, but other people will. And quite frankly I don't feel like picking up itsy-bitsy Harry pieces anytime soon."

"I don't feel like being in itsy-bitsy Harry pieces either," said Salazar.

"Good," said Ron sounding very pleased.

"But that doesn't mean that I won't use this…gift."

"Harry!"

Salazar shook his head. "I'm going to bed, Ron."

"But…"

"Goodnight," Salazar said climbing onto his bed and drawing the curtains.

Ron stared at the curtain for a while. "Well, fine then you bloody annoying black-haired midget! Why is it that when it counts, you never listen to me!" He kept muttering to himself as he got into his own bed and fell asleep.

A/N: Yes, a more regular update! Incredible! At any rate, this chapter might not be that good, but it's much better than it originally was.

1. In Norse mythology, Jormungard is the great sea serpent that inhabited the ocean surrounding Midgard. He grew so large he was able to encircle the world completely and grasped his own tail.

2. The little basilisk was named after Anthony J. Crowley, who is one of the main characters from the book Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaimon. He's a demon, or rather, "An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards." He has an Arrangement with the angel Aziraphale and the two set out to stop Armageddon.

Also, the name is a reference to Aleister Crowley who was a famous occultist and founder the Abbey of Thelema, among other things.

Reviews:

Serenity1910: Thanks. I actually found a cute wallpaper of Salazar Slytherin with a snake around his neck. Here's the link:

d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / d e v i a t i o n / 2 5 0 3 6 3 6 9 ? q o 6 6 & q S a l a z a r + S l y t h e r i n

Granted it doesn't say that it's a wallpaper, but that's how I use it. I hope you liked this chapter.


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